Carnival Ride
by 20FacesChizu
Summary: Her wedding day was a tragedy. Now the man she loves is dead, and she's married to the man she hates. But can she fall in love with the man who is her 'husband' when he's half the reason her life is screwed up anyway? Welcome to the Carnival Ride. AR
1. Just a Dream

_**Disclaimer:**__ This isn't canon, is it? Then obviously I don't own __**Naruto**__._

_**Dedication:**__ I said I would dedicate this story to the first person to review the final chapter of Soul-Mirror, so here it is~! As a matter of fact, it's actually someone I know in real life. To you, Angela! Don't freak just because it's short._

_**Note:**__ This challenge is one I've had in my head ever since I bought Carrie Underwood's album __**Carnival Ride**__, so I'm finally getting around to doing it. It's a very simple challenge in its own way, I think: just use each song as a theme for a chapter in a congruent, singular story. ^^ The songs/chapters can be in any order you like, so that makes it easier~ Hope you enjoy!

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_**Carnival **__**Ride**_

_20FacesChizu_

**1~ ****Just ****a ****Dream**

The sunlight was streaming through the window again. By the directory, she was fairly sure that she'd already slept away half the day, but it didn't really matter. She could hear her lover stirring in the bathroom; he was probably taking a shower after his morning training. He'd inherited a new team of Genin last month, and their training was just as wonky as the days when her team had made their debut. Nestled in the crisp sheets, she didn't want to think about moving yet. Behind her, the mattress dipped as he slipped up behind her.

"Sakura, it's nearly one in the afternoon. Didn't you promise Ino that you would come and confirm the wedding bouquet in half an hour?" She pouted, and rolled over, looking up into Kakashi's maskless face.

"Killjoy." He smiled gently.

"What is second only to the lives of comrades?"

"I get it, I get it." She shot a hand out from under the covers, grabbing his shoulder and hauling herself up. "Promises, right?"

Planting a sweet kiss on his lips and ambling across the room, Sakura rummaged through her drawers, emerging with a somewhat wrinkled t-shirt and pair of khaki mini-shorts that seemed to have been forced upon her by some outside influence. She certainly couldn't remember purchasing them herself. Strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

"Don't walk around like that."

"Like what?" She was being obtuse on purpose. Her state of complete undress was under no circumstances uncomfortable; she rather liked the fact that she could tease him like this. There wasn't a single reason for her to be ashamed of her body, and they both knew it. His hands dipped down and cradled her hips gently, and he placed a light kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Don't be late."

"I don't want to hear that from you." He helped her fasten her bra, which was quickly covered by the oversized shirt that was possibly Naruto's. There was no telling how it ended up in his sweetheart's things, but it didn't bother him. "Are you leaving?"

"I received a special request from an old friend. Instead of a bachelor's party, they wanted to drag me on one last mission to tempt fate." Sakura shot her old sensei a dirty look over her shoulder as she slipped the shorts over her long legs. "Don't worry, it's not like they're really anticipating anything."

His eye was crinkling in the old, familiar way, though a civilian-style patch covered the Sharingan for the moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck without a second thought, and his arms returned to their designated place at her waist.

It'd been two years. Two years ago, if not a little more, that she's really fallen for him. Right after letting everything concerning any Uchiha go. And it'd taken her those two-and-then-some years to get him to this place. Just a little… she didn't want him to go on this mission. It felt unlucky.

"If you're late, I won't forgive you."

"The wedding is in four days. I'll be back in three, I promise."

"Don't forget that." She pulled back and looked at him critically, unconsciously pouting. "Just… just don't get in a hurry and mistakenly put the promise before your life, okay? It'd make me feel guilty if you got careless and something happened."

"Do you _really_ think I'd get that careless?"

A wry little smile quirked the corners of her mouth. His lips brushed softly over hers, and then in a moment, as if his closeness had only been an illusion, he was sitting casually on the windowsill while pulling up his mask. With a glance back over his shoulder, a single, slate-gray eye smiled at her lovingly.

"I promise I'll come back on time and make you my bride, Sakura."

* * *

"You're absolutely _sure_ about these roses? I mean, they're very _you_, forehead, but I honestly thought you'd go for something less traditional, since you're such a freak."

Even if her language was harsh, Yamanaka Ino was genuinely Haruno Sakura's best friend. No really, she was. Sakura held the rose up to her face, taking in its light, sweet scent along with its pale, parchment-yellow petals that were edged in a deep, vivid pink.

"This is definitely the one. I don't know what you'd want to put with it, but these are my colors. Besides, you're the maid of honor, remember? I picked soft yellow because it would look good on you. Once Shikamaru sees you dressed up and looking like an angel, maybe he'll take the hint and propose~."

Ino couldn't seem to make her self spit out any more insults. Her childhood friend was all smiles and happiness, and it was too rare to spoil. If she'd been _hyper_ there would've been no stopping evil words (mostly out of jealousy). But with the sweet, quiet thing going on… it would've been a little bit like bullying Hinata. It would only serve to make her feel so guilty that she couldn't stand it later.

She was in charge on designing the bouquet and all manner of flowery-arrangement-ness, just as Tenten was managing all party favors and the guest list, and Hinata was handling the dresses. It wasn't a really _big_ thing… but Sakura was a medic. Medics make lots of friends. Sakura makes twice as many friends as normal medics. So…

Well, yeah, it was actually kind of big for a shinobi wedding, but that was okay. It only served to make things more fun.

The sketchpad in her hand was nearly full, all of bouquet designs and notes. The one she was working on for this marital malarkey was designed with the Baby Romantica rose as its focal point, and accented by a soft-looking variety of ivy and slightly off-season plum blossoms. It was definitely a deviation from the normal bouquet, but that was fine; it was like Sakura.

Sakura who had refused to see any cherry blossoms at her wedding. The moment she said that, all those present had unsuccessfully stifled a chorus of snickers.

"Is Kakashi-san with his new team?" the blonde asked idly, tapping her pencil against the paper. She couldn't decide if the way she had it was fine, or if it needed something else.

"No. Apparently, some old friend asked him to come on one last 'mission to tempt fate' as he put it." Ino glanced up at her friend who was now examining a glass case full of climbing flowers. She appeared to be admiring a half-closed morning glory, but the unconscious purse of her lips told the florist that she wasn't exactly happy with it, even if she was trying to sound fine. "He promised to be back the day before the wedding, so it should be fine."

"Sakura, if you're going to worry, _worry_. You do realize that worrying is the bride's, a.k.a. _your_, job, right? I'm going to say he'll be just fine. He's still in his prime, and a shinobi of his caliber just refuses to be killed, y'know? But still. Don't just stand over there and grit your teeth without saying anything." Her pencil resumed its deliberate marking as she tried adding a few wisteria around the edge of the bouquet. After a second she decided that didn't look right either, and erased it. Sakura was quiet for a while, simply wandering around the shop idly. When she stopped in front of the door, getting ready to leave, she responded at last.

"I know he'll be fine. But I don't like to worry."

* * *

"Sakura-chan~!"

Naruto waved at her from down the street, and without thinking twice, she grabbed Hinata's arm, refusing to let the girl escape. The blush was already turning her face beet red, mind you, but their relationship would just _never_ progress if she didn't take some initiative.

"Going for ramen?" she asked when they got closer. As always, Ichiraku Ramen was the one place one could always look to find Naruto, and if not personally, via information. The blonde nodded vigorously.

"Stay and eat with me! The old man said it was his treat today! Hinata, you should stay too. You look like you're about to collapse. Did you skip breakfast or something?"

Sakura was biting back a snicker. Hinata was blushing so badly that she didn't even bother to speak, because all that would've come out would be a futile stammer. Naruto, naïve as always, pulled the barstools out for the ladies, helping them politely into their seats. Sakura wanted to laugh even more as he comically bowed before plopping down next to the quiet heiress. The medic dearly hoped her friend wouldn't have a nosebleed just from the proximity they shared; but she was threatening to turn purple as it was, so all that could be done was to cross her fingers.

Amazing how she, not Ino, had become the "Konoha Twelve" matchmaker. Neji and Tenten started going out after she accidently-on-purpose drugged _him_ with an aphrodisiac, got _her_ drunk, and locked _both_ of them in an empty hospital room in the comatose section. Shikamaru finally got the guts to ask Ino out after she handcuffed _her_ to a tree, and _him_ to her ankles, and left them there overnight. Naturally Ino had read her the Riot Act for like… three days afterwards… but then she was too happy to let the rough treatment bother her. Apparently Shikamaru had talents other than his impossibly high IQ that Ino had no intention of letting anyone else experience.

Hinata and Naruto stole glances at Sakura out of the corner of their eyes. She was grinning maniacally, and staring off into space. Neither said anything. It was… yes, it was probably better to leave her like that.

* * *

Two days flew by. Ino was constantly bugging her about "those damn tacky roses," and Hinata was worrying over her measurements every single day. Tenten, thankfully, seemed to be the most together; that didn't mean she didn't forget and confirm the guest list three times a day, when she'd already done the same thing the day before.

The apartment she lived in was decorated lightly; the living room was done in soft, varying shades of blue, accented with cream and dark brown. Of course, that room was currently buried under mountains of paperwork and books, which she was slowly clearing, filing, and shelving. This was the place Kakashi had bought for them to live together; though he spent most of his time here, he still had his own place. She'd moved in early… to redecorate.

Distractedly, her eyes stared at the ceiling fan.

It moved the air around; the windows were open, but there was only a light draft. It was already getting on the warm side, even if it _was_ only the tail end of April. The scent of blossoming trees was drifting on the breeze. The air was light and sweet; easy to breathe.

Her mind was wandering. The night before he'd gone on this mission, Kakashi had stayed the night, and held her gently while she fell asleep, stroking her hair so softly that she wasn't sure when he stopped, or if he ever had. Holding her while she fell asleep… that was the most he ever touched her. In his reserved, adult way of thinking, if something were to happen to him before they were married and she got pregnant, things would be too difficult for her. He used that as his excuse, and she wanted to throttle him just as much as she wanted to hug the stuffing out of him, because in its own way, it was super sweet.

She was already imagining, and wishing he would walk back into their apartment right this minute. He _was_ supposed to be back today; he _did_ promise. Suddenly, the wish to fling her self into his arms was overwhelming, to the point where it felt like she would cry, and her heart would burst open. Sakura shoved the books and folders out of her lap, throwing open the bay windows that overlooked the street.

She needed air.

She wanted _him_.

* * *

"SAKURA!"

Ino's screech accompanied the front door banging open, and in a matter of minutes the comfortable, and previously quiet, apartment was in an absolute uproar.

She had apparently fallen asleep on the windowsill. How careless.

Before her brain was even in gear, Ino was shoving her clothes and all into a freezing cold shower. Sakura slowly poked her head out from behind the curtain, hair dripping on the wooden floor pathetically as she shot her friend a baleful glare.

"Ino, put out your hands. Now."

As if she couldn't care less, the blonde complied. A few moments later, she was burdened down with a pile of soaking wet clothing. Sakura stuck her head out again.

"I need a robe and underwear. Until I am clean and dressed, _no one_ is to enter this bathroom."

The knobs properly adjusted, the water slowly warmed up to a comfortable temperature. It was still a few minutes before she was really _awake_, but as she thoughtfully scrubbed her hair, she started thinking properly. Stepping out onto the cold linoleum served to bring her the rest of the way to her senses.

When she walked into her bedroom, a pair of frilly, deep blue underwear she didn't recognize (she was already pinning a mental Ino-voodoo-doll to a tree) sat rather innocently next to her wedding dress on her bed, the white silk shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight that was pouring through the window.

Somehow, when she started putting it on, it felt like a miracle had happened.

The kimono sleeves slipped over her arms softly, barely rustling, and the short skirt swept around her knees so lightly it felt like nothing but air. Her feet slipped into a delicate pair of shoes that were embroidered with soft yellow lilies and pale green vines. When she looked in her dresser mirror, just a little, she didn't really recognize herself.

A commotion in the living room was what brought her out of her reverie. Hearing a male voice (one that wasn't Kakashi's, she was absolutely sure) made her curious as to what was going on. She snuck out the door and down the hall, pausing silently just around the corner in case her husband-to-be really _was_ there and just hadn't said anything.

"I'm telling you, I have to speak to Sakura-san! This is _imperative_, Yamanaka-san; I was sent here directly by Shizune-sama!" Izumo protested, his voice strained with urgency and something she didn't _want_ to identify.

"Definitely _not_. The _bride_ is busy, y'got it?"

"It's okay, Ino. If Shizune-san sent him, I'll see him."

When Sakura stepped around the corner, the room went silent for a moment. Izumo stepped forward, his only visible brown eye showing that, if at all, he hadn't wanted to meet her like this. Pain. Almost, tears.

"Sakura-san, I'm so sorry… Kakashi-senpai… is dead."

* * *

She was wearing a wedding dress to a funeral. She hadn't had the strength to change.

The sun was shining so brightly, like all the flowers in the world would bloom, all wrongs would be made right, and sadness was a myth.

She wished it would rain. Then no one would know she was crying.

* * *

**AN: _Carnival Ride_ is FINALLY up!! *spazz* I actually posted this on the wrong account first. Tehe. *hits self* I hope ya'll enjoy my newest chapter story, Naruto fans! I even wrote ahead this time so that you wouldn't have to wait so long for the next update. XP**

**DON'T FORGET TO R&R~!**


	2. Last Name

**2~ ****Last ****Name**

The apartment was clean.

Completely tidy, like a "Better Homes and Gardens" magazine.

On the table was an empty wine bottle, and a glass that looked completely untouched, save the last little droplet of wine in the bottom, and a barely-there stain of lip balm on the rim. On the couch, Sakura was curled up with a blanket sleeping, her cheeks rosy and red as proof that she had been drinking.

The house was silent.

Somehow, staleness had already settled in.

* * *

"Okay, so come back in two weeks and I'll take those stitches out. Until then I want you to stay away from steam and take a break from training. I don't want you opening that up again."

She whacked the Academy student on the back of the head affectionately, and he laughed. The minute he was off the hospital bed and out the door, Sakura stuck her head out the door and asked for the next patient.

"But… Sakura-san, you've been here for four days straight…"

"And? There's work to do. Send in the next patient."

The hesitant woman could only comply. Technically, even if she _was_ older, Sakura was her superior; there wasn't a thing she could do about it. The young man that crippled to the room was favoring his left leg to the point of practically hopping on one foot. He'd probably be out in minutes, if the way the medic was working was any indication.

Working hard, working fast. Like a machine.

The office she kept was already sparkling clean, without a hint of paperwork. The Hokage's medical office was the same way. As was Shizune's. All completed by Sakura. When she was absolutely sure that she could hear the calm, professional voice of the medic talking to her patient, the nurse snuck to the phone and hit the speed-dial.

Even if she couldn't do anything, _that person_ could.

* * *

"… And you're here… why?"

"To invite you drinking. Everyone's busy and it's too lonely to go by myself."

Ino was standing there with a totally nonplussed look on her face, her mouth somewhere between a pout and a frown. Her body language was expressly telling her pink-haired friend that, _no_, she wasn't going _anywhere_ until the medic agreed.

"Whatever. If I go home I'll end up drinking anyway."

"Now that really _is_ lonely. Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's a social activity?" That comment was ignored. Sakura gathered up her purse and keys, paying no attention to the nurse on duty as she signed out on the hospital log, which said she'd first arrived five days ago now. That was just a little pathetic, but at the moment, she really didn't give a damn.

The streets were lit brightly, with shops that were lively and full of people, decorated in various flashy, non-intrusive ways. Street lamps were unnecessary with the normal shinobi nightlife as it was. The lights flooded the streets, and made it bright and almost festive. Down the main drag a ways, Ino cut off onto a small side street, and in minutes they were in their favorite pub. The owner greeted them kindly when they came in.

"What'll it be, ladies?"

"Just a beer, Shin. Thanks."

"The strongest thing you've got in the biggest glass you've got."

The redheaded young man looked at her in surprise, but complied without saying anything. Shinobi were accustomed to drinking, he knew… and he supposed that she deserved it with what had happened a few days ago. Everyone knew. When she started to sigh, he surprised her by popping a cherry in her mouth.

"Don't do that, it makes your happiness fly away." His taupe eyes were the only sign of pity on his face, but he knew that even that much was unwelcome. Haruno Sakura was not the type to seek pity. She seemed to roll the cherry around in her mouth for a minute, before she vulgarly spat out the pit and stem on the counter.

"Oh look. I tied the stem in a knot. Can I have that drink now?"

* * *

"We're a little short-handed, so you'll be by yourself; is that alright?"

"Iruka-sensei, I'm called 'Earthquake Haruno' for a reason, remember?" The blank, but somehow obviously unhappy, look she had plastered on her face was chillingly clear: _Give me the damn mission or I'm going back to work at the hospital. Now which will it be?_

"I understand, Sakura-san, I do! I was just making sure you didn't mind!"

Just a little, despite her angry aura, he wanted to pat her hair like he used to when she was an academy student. He could remember the way she'd been with Kakashi; it was still that fresh in his mind. It had been a quiet sort of romance; she relied on him completely, trusted him completely. Had long since given herself over to him. And to Kakashi, she'd been even greater than a lover, he'd sometimes thought. Like he revolved around her… like she was a goddess that had mercifully brought him to life. The fact that, even like this, he felt like he could see the older man's shadow behind her, a nervous smile crinkling his only visible eye…

If _he_ was like this… it was certainly worse for her, right?

Iruka handed her the mission papers calmly, and she started scanning them.

"You're to meet the clients three days from now at this southern port in the Tea Country. They're travelling incognito, so you should do your best to look like a civilian. He says that he would appreciate if you would wear something to identify yourself inconspicuously, as he doesn't want to give himself away by risking his own information."

"I'll go as myself. No one can question a girl with pink hair, right?" It was a slight relief that now, at least, she was smirking. Iruka smiled in return.

"I'll be sure and send a hawk to let the client know."

* * *

Two days.

He was friggin' two _days_ late.

At the portside pub, Sakura was the _only_ woman to be seen. She had kicked, punched, pummeled and mauled at least a crew's worth of seamen in these last two hellish days, and for every man she damaged, she drank another drink. The alcohol had, unfortunately, yet to go to her head. Still sober enough to touch her nose and walk a straight line was _not_ how she wanted to be at the moment. The bartender was now used to her; she'd simply borrowed one of the large corner booths in the seedy establishment and slept when and if she felt like it. He walked over to her while polishing a glass.

"Chouko-chan, if you keep drinking like that you'll get too bored, you know. Why don't you go dance for a while?" She didn't even flinch at his casual use of her alias.

"I'm not bored. I'm pissed."

"Your husband a seaman?"

Her glass shattered when she set it on the cabinet, but over the noise of the music and the raucous din of the sailors, no one even noticed. Her anger was just tangible enough to intimidate the man in front of her.

"No, Kouji-san. I'm afraid the man I love has never been much for the sea."

Slamming back the last of her foul-smelling cocktail, she slid from the barstool and ambled to the dance floor. The music was loud. Loud enough that she could feel it vibrating in her chest. A sultry, powered voice poured through the speakers. She was perfectly aware that most of the eyes were on her. She didn't care. There weren't many people dancing, other than the youngsters with a need to move. She didn't even _look_ like one of them. More woman than girl; less gentle than strong. When a boy who was probably a little older than herself ambled over, she actually allowed him to speak before pummeling him.

"Hey, cutie. Wanna join us for some poker?" Sakura eyed him blankly. She could care less about his obvious ulterior motives, but playing a little poker would've been another change of pace to keep her distracted.

"Sounds good. What're the stakes?"

"Just a little petty cash. There's no high-rollers 'round this area." He had a friendly smile. In turn, it probably meant that he was used to this. When she followed him to the corner table, a man was just returning from the bar with a round of beer for all. The introductions went around, and when they reached her, she was already picking up her drink.

"I don't give introductions to men who lose to me. Win once and maybe I'll tell you my name."

* * *

The cards flew. After a dozen games, all of which she won, the sailors got a little frustrated. And then they just had to go and _dare_ her.

"Fact or fiction: there are seven primary shinobi villages?" she asked, a half-full bottle of whiskey in-hand. Around the table, men with various degrees of drunkenness had similar bottles. The young one that had invited her over was long since drunk under the table. What had become of him, she had no idea.

"Fact." The others drunkenly agreed with the bearded man that had barely managed to slur out that single word. Hardly phased, Sakura knocked back the last of her whiskey in a single, long draught. Kouji was already serving her another bottle.

"Sorry. That's fiction."

They were beginning to look at their bottles like they were the devil himself. She'd probably turned them into nice, sober gentlemen after tonight. Sakura was already chugging down her new bottle. They hadn't won a thing. Kouji-san had been forbidden to mention her name (alias though it was). When she slammed another empty bottle on the table, there was a slight ringing in her ears.

So. It would take her two days of nearly constant alcohol intake to get drunk. That was nice to know.

Liking the fact that she was about to start really forgetting things, she summoned the bartender for another two bottles of whiskey. By the time she'd finished them off, her companions were already passed out on the table, and the music that had at first only resonated in her chest was now creeping like electricity over her skin. She wanted to dance. And she did.

She didn't even care that all eyes were on her. It wasn't like she looked like a ninja or anything, right? She was just wearing a pair of slacks and a tank top. Nothing extravagant, and nothing that looked ninja-ish. But the way she could feel the attention… she decided that she didn't mind it. Was a little gratifying.

She didn't understand why she didn't like the part about it being gratifying. She was a single young woman, right? Something scratching at the back of her mind said that dancing alone wasn't a good idea. Something… in a very masculine voice that seemed warm and familiar.

_Kaka… shi…_

The minute his name came to mind, she didn't feel like dancing anymore. It was still the middle of a song, but she simply stopped moving and went to the bar.

"Another one please, Kouji-san."

"I thought you were going to dance!"

"I did. I don't want to anymore."

Vaguely, she was aware of someone taking a seat next to her.

"If you come on to me, I swear I'll kill you." He didn't answer. Whether it was because he was pissed, shocked or ignoring her she really didn't care.

"I'll have what this pleasant young woman is drinking." In surprise, she gave a dry, barking laugh. He didn't startle then, but when a two bottles of whiskey settled on the counter side-by-side, he seemed to stiffen. She cackled.

"What, is the drink too tall for you, _young man_?" She didn't really bother to turn and look at him. Her cork was soon on the counter, and she was knocking back the liquor as if it were water. After a moment, he seemed to follow suit. The bartender wandered over to her, still polishing another glass.

"Chouko-chan, do you realize just _how many_ of those you've had?"

"Nope. Don't care either. I'm sure my wallet can handle it."

"… That's really not the issue here, you know…"

"What is it, then?"

"A single young lady shouldn't be knocking back twenty bottles of pure grain alcohol a night," he deadpanned. The customer next to her made no comment on her consumption, but he _did_ seem to think twice about the bottle of white lightning in his hand.

"I'm not drunk yet, am I?"

"You're not exactly _sober_, if that's what you want to know."

"We knew that when I started. What sober human would even think about drinking so much? They'd probably have alcohol poisoning before they even got halfway through all of it." She took aim, and then threw the bottle in the wastebasket. She apparently used too much power, because it shattered on the wall above before falling in its intended grave. Satisfactorily disposed of (a little _too well disposed of_, in Kouji's opinion), Sakura turned back to her new favorite person.

"Another."

"No."

"Can you really say no, Kouji-san? I'm a paying customer with good money, lots of it, and who causes absolutely _no trouble_ no matter _how much_ she drinks, right?" She smiled sweetly. In fact, if he hadn't been watching her the last three days, he would've thought she was still stone cold sober. Begrudgingly, he slid another bottle onto the cabinet.

"What number is that?" Sakura heard the stranger next to her ask, but she didn't really care to answer. She could see, though, when the young bartender sent him a withering plea for help with his eyes.

"This would be her twenty-sixth, sir." She paused mid-swig.

"I was sure it was only my twenty-second…"

"You passed up the twenty-second one when you were still playing fact or fiction with those people that've become deadweight in the corner, Chouko-chan."

Sakura shrugged, and took a few more gulps from her bottle. The smoky, smooth flavor was still burning down her throat in a way that got more delightful as time passed. In the next minute, she was dunking another bottle in the garbage can.

"Another, Kouji-san."

"Chouko-chan-!"

"I don't want to hear it!" He startled. She… hadn't raised her voice before. "Kouji-san… please. Just give me the drink. I can still remember. Just _let me forget_."

Remember the nights she's slept, locked in a warm embrace. The times she'd been saved. Healed. Cared for. Every time he'd touched her face, every single smile she'd ever seen on his beautiful, unmasked face. Could feel every time he'd stroked her hair, and every kiss, soft and tender or hard and heated, that he'd ever lain upon her lips.

And she wanted… just simply wanted to forget.

After that, she wasn't really sure how many of those bottles she drank. More than too many. Kouji's protests had stopped after that, and she hadn't paid any attention as she knocked back one decanter of liquor after another. She didn't know when, but at one point she started to feel… light. There was a weight that seemed to grow legs and walk off for a little while, and during that time, she remembered going to the dance floor again. The stranger that had sat beside her came up and danced with her. The blur of lights, the loud music, and the crowd of bodies that had steadily grown with time all blended together, becoming a fuzzy picture that didn't seem nearly as dependable later as it had at the time. As did that figure. That dark, tall, somehow beautiful figure of the stranger that spoke kindly but really didn't have a face.

He whispered…

"_Sakura…_"

And… forgetting who she was, she answered.

* * *

The sun was rising. And she could only think one thing.

_Dammit, it's morning_.

Sakura stared blankly at the window where sunlight was ever so cheerfully streaming in, and willed herself not to roll over and go back to sleep. There were a few reasons for that.

One, she didn't know where the hell she was.

Two, she couldn't remember a damned _thing_.

The clean, rather plush hotel room was decked out in red and chocolate brown. The bed she was laying on was thick and unbelievably comfortable, and the soft, down-filled suede coverlet was pleasant on her skin where the sheet had slipped away.

Her clothes were everywhere.

When she sat up, the medic noted uneasily that she was absolutely naked, and that her hips were aching uncomfortably.

_Well, I've certainly done something crazy this time…_

Ten minutes. Just ten minutes and she was up, washed off and dressed. On the dresser, there was a receipt that stated her tab at the bar had been paid, and for that she noted that her wallet hadn't lightened any. Whoever had managed to pick her up had been gentlemanly enough to pick up her tab, while he was at it. She was just about to leave through the door…

But he was _back_.

To meet him seemed… awkward, at best. Without a sound, she leapt away from the door, turned tail, and disappeared through the window.

It wasn't until later, _much_ later, after her angry client had finally resumed his journey with her en-tow, that she realized an unexplained gold ring was hugging innocently to her finger.

* * *

**AN: That was fast, wasn't it? XP Here's the second chapter of _Carnival Ride_, peeps! Hope you like. I finished chapter 7 a few minutes ago, so I figured I'd go ahead and post it. I'm still running the challenge; if you name the chapter order correctly I'll do a special request. XP It'll run through chapter 6, but you still better get crackin!**

**DON'T FORGET TO R&R!**


	3. The More Boys I Meet

**3~ ****The ****More ****Boys ****I ****Meet**

"You're… what?"

"I'm busy tonight. I'm filling in for someone who couldn't go to Miyu-san's goukon at the last minute."

Ino stared, absolutely flabbergasted, at her best friend.

"… You _are_ the recently widowed Sakura, right?"

"I'm not a widow. He died before we got married, remember?"

"_Sakura!_"

"It's true, right?"

The medic looked like she had absolutely nothing to worry about over the confession. As if Kakashi's death _hadn't_ turned her into a walking corpse for weeks. As if she _hadn't_ just returned from a mission that seemed like something had inexplicably gone wrong. The blonde watched as the young woman stacked a pile of papers neatly on her desk, and then returned to writing on another sheet of an unidentified medical form.

"Look. I can't keep grieving forever, right? We're in a kill or be killed business." There was a complacent smile on her face. Ino tried to say something, but Sakura interrupted before she could. "Don't worry. This is a part of my 'moving on' process. Understand?"

"… If any of them make you cry, I swear I'll kill them in their sleep, okay?"

* * *

Plain. Boring. Ugly. Ugly as _hell_. Plain.

In that sort of general order were the descriptors she had attached to the guys that showed up at the so-called 'goukon.' 'Boring' was fighting with 'Ugly as Hell' to see who would be her escort for the evening.

Personally, she chose Boring, simply because, at the very least, he was somewhat easier on the eyes.

"And then Sora was like 'OMG, YOU DIDN'T'!"

"Miyu-san's a daredevil!"

The conversation, which was far too squeaky clean for Sakura's taste, was quickly degenerating into a "who can tell the funniest story in more words than anyone should ever use" sequence. She's already heard about sneaking into some American's hotel room because someone thought confusing him would be fun, walking to postboxes naked on a dare, transforming into a kid and seducing a lolicon, and a host of other unbelievably stupid antics.

Though she had to admit. The story with the lolicon _didn't_ put her to sleep.

But to be a nice, proper, not-practically-widowed young lady, Sakura was having to keep her distance from the bar. If a guy challenged her to a drinking contest and she still walked home in a straight line, that wouldn't be good for her dating reputation.

For some reason, Boring and Ugly as Hell were having an argument over who would walk her home tonight. Ugly and the two Plains were pretty much attached to Miyu at the hips, which was fine, since it was supposed to be her party anyway. Sakura sighed.

Miyu's Goukon Pickup Plan: Grand Failure.

* * *

The next goukon, a week later, was much the same. Save that the second Mr. Plain was replaced by second and third Mr. Uglies. Sakura was very thankful when Naruto somehow showed up out of the blue and dragged her off for sake and ramen.

The week after wasn't quite such a disappointment. They at least had looks to their credit, though they were generally a little older than her. One guy with jet-black hair was showering her with _very_ flattering attention, and she allowed him to walk her home that night.

Before she even made it through the door, she'd thoroughly decided he was too grabby. In fact, she had decided that _no_ guy had _any _right to be _that grabby_. Especially not on a 'first date.'

The week after, the selection was quite varied. There were guys with a simple sort of charm, and those that were blatantly good-looking, and one that just might've used a transformation to look like he did, simply because he was so drop-dead gorgeous. But the one that was so beautiful, unfortunately, was much like Naruto at his worst: the class-clown type. Such a waste. Even though he seemed to take a liking to her, Sakura couldn't really stand the thought of going out with him.

Put looks and intelligence on a scale, and intelligence will weigh in every time.

The restaurants were always cheap, whatever food they ate was generally mediocre, and the sake, what little she drank, was never any good. So she wasted pretty much every Saturday night. Ino would invite her out every Friday, because the next night was always booked. When she happened to ask her best friend what they talked about at such things, since Ino herself wasn't really of any mind to go, Sakura would say, "Anything, as long as it's boring, mundane, supposedly funny but isn't, unintelligent, or just plain stupid. My brain is choking because _theirs_ are too busy turning into bubbles."

It's not like she wasn't trying. They were welcome to amuse her with intelligent conversation and witty comments. Perhaps in contrast to her knowledge of the medical field, they could come up with something from literature. At the very least, there would be someone who could amuse her with something like _that_, right? Sakura heaved a sigh and glanced around the table.

Tonight's main dish was, apparently, the sulky-but-cute bad-boy type.

Well. It _was_ her type, once upon a time. But trying to get her in bed on the first night was just as bad as the grabby dude from weeks ago.

The next week, she had an oversized kid chasing her. Maybe it was her maturity level. But even though he was fun, witty, and even a little adventurous (she had to admit it, really: he was awesome fun to hang out with), the ego was a real problem. Naruto's ego and none of his substance.

Yeah. She would keep his phone number. They were _just friends_.

Ino called one night, several months later, and asked how it was going.

"I think I'm just gonna foreswear guys. Wanna come with me and pick out a dog?"

* * *

October had come roaring in with bitter cold and lots of wind. The leaves, still stubbornly clinging to their branches, created a constant background of white noise. It rained often, and regardless of when it didn't, the skies remained a dreary gray.

On this unfortunate Thursday off, Sakura curled up with a blanket on her windowsill and stared out across the street. Just over the top of another building, she could see a park and a playground, which were, as expected, abandoned due to the horrible weather. Beyond the window seat, the floor was littered with empty bottles of liquor, a few old casks sitting in the corner. Crumpled pieces of paper, whole pieces of paper, open and closed books, files and movie cases speckled every surface from the window seat to the kitchen door by which she left for work every morning. The TV was silent as always, and so was the stereo system. A little drip from the faucet was generally unnoticed as it fell into the cracks of a small mountain of dishes in the kitchen sink.

She took a slow draught from her half-empty sake bottle.

This was what happened _that night_, right? She'd fallen asleep in the window seat, waiting for Kakashi's promised return. He'd promised with a _real_ smile.

"_I promise I'll come back on time and make you my bride, Sakura."_

He'd been looking at her gently, like he did every time he told her he loved her. He was _telling_ _the truth_. So what in hell's name happened?

She wasn't crying. The bottle beneath her hand had grown warm where she held it. The arm resting on her knee was falling asleep, it'd been there so long. Her mouth was dry as medical gauze, and she wasn't doing anything about it. The sake certainly wasn't helping.

Vaguely she looked down at the ring on her hand.

It wasn't Kakashi's ring… so why was she still wearing it?

* * *

"_So_, there's this new hottie in town that claims to be a travelling medical student from Kusa, you see? And I was all like, 'OMG, one of my _best friends _is a medic too! Should I introduce you?!' And he was totally up for it! I mean, I know you've like, sworn off guys or something like that, but make an exception, mmkay?"

The babbling voice on the other end of the line was, in fact, Miyu. The very person that had ever so quickly invited her to a goukon when she'd mentioned it. Sakura knew from the beginning that, despite her dark purple hair, the girl was a blonde through and through. A blonde in disguise. Something.

At any rate, if there was a simple way to describe her, it was 'bubblehead.' No contest.

"Miyu-san, I _did_ foreswear men. I don't want to this time. Last time wasn't exactly _inspirational_ you know." She was having to restrain herself from giving a deep, soul-cleansing sigh that would tell the girl just how much she _wasn't_ looking forward to this.

"I _promise_, Sakura! Look, he's _exactly_ your type!"

_Which, according to you, is Sasuke._

"He's super smart!"

_Which, compared to you,_ _would be a houseplant._

"He's reeeally polite!"

_Which, considering you, would mean he's a smooth-talking playboy._

"Miyu-san, did you absolutely _promise_ that I would meet him?" She could practically hear the girl nodding vigorously on the other end of the phone.

"Yup~! I told him that you and I would be happy to meet him at the yakiniku place at seven~."

_Which means if I leave you alone, there's no telling __what__ manner of trouble you'll get into. Damn it._ Sakura bit her lip. The desire to sigh was becoming even _more_ prominent.

"… Alright. Just this once, Miyu-san. But don't go promising dates for me anymore, okay?" The giggle on the other end of the line was grating on her nerves. The pen in her hand was certainly letting out a silent death-screech as she snapped it in two.

"Yes ma'am~. So, you have two hours! See you there~"

And she hung up. Just like that.

No good-bye, no promise that she wouldn't do it again, no apology at all, not even in her voice.

In her quiet medical office, the hum of the heater was her only company. Sakura glanced up at the clock and finally let loose the sigh she'd been holding in. Probably a year's worth or more, it sounded like.

"I guess… I need to get going, then."

* * *

Sakura arrived at the small shop a half-hour early, fully intending to pick out the battleground herself. She would choose that delightful little booth behind a pot plant, next to the window and _just_ around the corner from the ladies' room, where she could escape through the bathroom window if the need arose.

Depending on what he was like, she might or might not drag away Miyu-san as well. Even kicking and screaming.

"Haruno… Sakura-san, correct?"

Well, she was a little surprised. Sakura turned to find herself looking at a young man who was, by guess, a few years her senior, with neatly cut brown hair and warm, honey-colored eyes. Somehow, her 'observation mode' kicked in without permission, and started mentally noting the aristocratic touches to his face, and the way he seemed to have a special, knowing aura projected from his eyes. How he held himself tall, but bowed just slightly as he inquired of her with respect. The way his face changed to look at her curiously reminded her that she hadn't answered his question, and she nodded. A small, somewhat… admirable, was it? Yes, an _admirable_ smile appeared on his face, and he drew himself up to full height.

"I'm glad. I was afraid for a moment that I had called out to the wrong person. I believe that our mutual acquaintance, Hoshimura Miyu-san, had intended to introduce us. Am I late, perchance?"

She blinked. He _was_ very polite. How odd.

"No, we're both very early, in fact." Sakura tried to school her features into something that could be passed as social politesse. When he gestured to a table on the other side of the restaurant, she was slightly unsettled, but followed his lead. The waiter came over and he ordered her a drink that she knew had warm, sweet taste. She'd had it before. "How did you know to order something like that for me?"

He looked surprised, if you observed him closely. Another small smile was quirking the corners of his lips.

"It's cold out. I thought it would warm you up."

"But usually you'd order tea or coffee, right?"

"Perhaps. But everyone likes to try something different sometimes."

It wasn't as though the conversation dried up. It wasn't as though she was incapable of small talk. But in the next hour while they waited for their wannabe Cupid to show up, there was a comfortable silence that settled between them as they sipped their drinks and people-watched out the window. Occasionally the sun would peek through the clouds and set a single spotlight somewhere on the streets. Mothers on the way back from shopping walked with arms full of grocery bags, and chatted with each other about the latest gossip. Every once in a while, some of their conversation would drift to the couple across the glass. The dinner rush came and went as dusk began to fall. Sakura dragged her eyes away from the window and glanced at the wall clock. Their third wheel was an hour late.

She probably hadn't intended on coming at all.

"Miyu-san… isn't coming, I suppose." The young man was still staring quietly out the window. Sakura let out a short breath; the closest thing to a sigh she'd let him see.

"She probably didn't intend to show up from the beginning. So since we're already late, I believe I'll give my overdue introduction in her place." She bowed her head politely, green eyes raising to meet his with a strong, firm gaze. "My name, as you apparently know, is Haruno Sakura. I am the lead medic at the hospital, as well as the medic for my team, Kakashi-han."

She had to stop and swallow. They weren't really… Kakashi-han anymore.

Hadn't been for… months.

"I am pleased to meet you again, Sakura-san." His honey-brown eyes held hers, but his soft voice seemed hesitant as he spoke. Without introducing himself, though, he cast a purposeful glance at her hand.

"I see… you're still wearing it." From her left ring finger, the delicate gold wedding band glimmered in the restaurant's low lighting.

When she looked back up, his eyes were red.

* * *

_Fingers and hands. A big, warm hand was wrapped around hers as they stumbled out of the bar. She was laughing hysterically and she wasn't sure why. He was smiling widely, but silent._

_They entered a chapel, and startled a reverend. What the young man that had led her here was saying she didn't have the slightest clue, but when she heard him sound as though he were asking a question she agreed. The old pastor looked as though he were worried about her, but proceeded to pull out a cracked, black book._

_When he said, "Repeat after me," she did just that, and didn't even store away what she was saying._

_Fingers and hands. He slipped a tiny golden ring on her finger. It didn't match what she was wearing; silver would've been the better choice. But then he… kissed her. And when he kissed her, the metal her ring was made out of didn't matter much anymore. A callused thumb was running over the back of her hand, and after a very brief moment, she was up in his arms, and he was sprinting across rooftops at an insane speed that made her dizzy. Windows from a balcony spread open wide when he pushed at them with his foot, and before long, they were an endless tangle of cotton sheets, suede covers, warm skin and silky hair. He lavished her body with attentions that she'd only ever wished for, and she could hear him whisper her name over and over again…_

_Sakura…_

… _Sakura…_

_Sa… kura…

* * *

_

When she woke up, she wasn't looking at her darkened ceiling. She wasn't staring at the hospital's clinically clean white walls. She wasn't gazing at the wooden ceiling of the yakiniku place, or up through the somehow always-smoky air of the local bar.

That paneled ceiling, pock-marked in places where something had stabbed through (probably very old miss-aimed Konohamaru attacks), was indubitably the Hokage's office.

"Are you awake now, Sakura?"

The sound of her teacher's voice made her feel a little better. Undoubtedly, she'd simply fallen asleep after a long day of work. She would sit up and find herself helping with paperwork in the next few minutes, and would continue to do so until the Hokage's office was once again spotless, without a scrap of paper in sight.

She never saw that pair of black-flecked hellfire eyes. She never did. Nor would she ever, since by all reports _all_ Uchihas on record were dead.

"Sakura, you recall that information we received from Sasuke before his death in reference to the Uchiha massacre, correct?" the woman asked sternly. Sakura nodded as she sat up, smoothing out some of the wrinkles in her clothes and stretching a little to rid her back of a kink or two. "Uchiha Itachi has, for the record, been cleared of the murders of the Uchihas, as they were under the previous administration's order. Sakura, have you forgiven Itachi?"

The girl turned and looked at her mentor in surprise, to find that glowing golden countenance examining her piercingly. Had she… _forgiven_ him?

"What… is there to forgive? He wasn't at fault."

"Sakura, look me in the eye and say that's what you really mean." She couldn't. Because… she really didn't. There was a lot more to this than Itachi's personal past, though she couldn't begin to comprehend why her teacher was bringing this up now. "You have a lot to lay against that man, and not all of it lies with the Massacre. He motivated Uchiha Sasuke's original betrayal. His death was what turned the boy against Konoha, and inspired him to join the Akatsuki. He has injured you physically, and by injuring those around you, mentally. He isn't an existence you take lightly."

Those critical, tawny eyes softened with a knowing pity that made her want to hide.

"_You_, more than anyone alive, Sakura, have reason to hate that man. There's no use in denying it."

An overbearing silence hung in the room. It was dark outside and dawn was still a long way off. The only light was the dirty old desk lamp, which was a relic from who-knew-when. Between the two of them, there were no secrets. There had never been a need for secrets. Even now, there wasn't. Because she could admit it.

"I… haven't really forgiven him. He's dead, so there's nothing to forgive, but… when I know why he did what he did… the reasons behind what he's done since become clear. Then… then, I can understand him just a little." She tried to turn her eyes up to meet her teacher's, but the furthest she could get was the edge of her dark, old desk. Whether it was shame, or… or what ever else it might've been that kept her from looking up, she didn't know. "He may have traumatized Sasuke, but he couldn't kill him. He may have made him seek vengeance, but it was to set him as a faithful shinobi of Konoha. He didn't return to taunt him, but to protect him. He didn't go after any of our or our allied ninja actively, but passively. He was a pacifist that only acted against us in order to continue his farce."

"Since you understand that, I really _do_ hope that you'll come to forgive me."

Black-flecked hellfire. Those eyes had been _real_.

Without even realizing what had happened, he'd come to crouch in front of her, and was looking into her eyes quietly. The bloody red drained away, leaving the dark-night black that she remembered from long ago in his little brother.

"I am pleased to meet you as myself, Sakura-san." He held up his left hand, and there was a gold, woven-ivy band on his ring finger. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but as it stands… I believe we are married."

* * *

**AN: Okay, peeps. You're going to have to start reviewing more. I'm LONELY, dadgummit. Side note to CherryJubilee, I know. I read that story, and I begged her to continue, believe me. I LOVE IT. XP This story is half of my desire for her to continue that fic, honestly, and my take on the situation since it's interesting. **

**At any rate, I'm updating really fast, aren't I? That's because I keep finishing chapters. Chapter 8 is now kaput, so don't worry about me not updating and just review away, mmkay? Okay! Now be good little readers and give me feedback, because then I love on this story even more. *grins***


	4. Flat on the Floor

_**Note: **__To the IDIOT who reviewed as "anon": You have obviously never written anything. Ever. It takes a LOT of practice to get as far as I've gotten. Sorry I'm not a friggin' classic yet, that can't be helped. As far as begging for reviews and writing for pleasure instead of praise, have you looked lately? I wouldn't write as much as I do if I didn't like it. Desiring approval is something natural. When you make something, do you want people to ignore it, or even worse, say it sucks? Don't think so. You, my friend, are just someone with a bad attitude and too much free time, with NO backbone. If you dare to come back and read this story, I hope you're ready to back up your scathing, imbecilic comments by SIGNING IN and allowing me to read something YOU have written._

_Sorry everyone for the fore note. That just had to be addressed._

**4~ ****Flat ****on ****the ****Floor**

She'd recognized that she no longer knew who she was, by family name standards. Her one-night-stand husband had been someone that she hadn't wanted to even _acknowledge_, much less meet.

But she hadn't been able to take off the ring.

Oh, sure, she _could've_ taken it off. It wasn't like it was stuck on her with a jutsu or something. She just… hadn't wanted to, and hadn't known _why_. And now, Uchiha Itachi- the impossibly alive Uchiha Itachi- who was the last of his kind was presented to her; and apparently, they were married.

_Somebody stop the ride; I wanna get off now._

"I want an annulment."

"I believe the provision for an annulment is that the marriage be unconsummated."

"Fine. I want a divorce."

"I believe a divorce is something that involves more publicity than a supposedly 'dead' man should garner, don't you agree?"

"_I am not going to marry an S-class criminal_."

"An S-class _shinobi_, Sakura-san. I am no longer classified as a criminal by Konoha standards. And 'marry' is the wrong grammatical tense; we are _married_."

She growled at the insistent man across the room. She'd left that office without looking back and had _run_ at break-neck speed all the way home. And that _bastard_ had actually had the gumption to _follow_ her. He was currently leaning against her doorframe, and probably watching as she buried as deeply into her bed as possible, as if it would get her out on the winning side of this argument.

An argument that shouldn't have even been possible in the first place. He was supposed to be a criminal. He was supposed to be _dead_.

And above all, the man she was _supposed_ to be married to… was dead instead.

Whether he knew that she was crying herself to sleep or not… she didn't want to know.

* * *

It was five in the morning. Usually at this point, her apartment would be cold, dark, and lifeless.

But the lamp on the other side of the bed was turned on, as were the bathroom and hall lights. Sakura threw the covers aside, and slipped on the softly carpeted floor. The bathroom was warm with steam from a very inviting-looking bath, and her towels and clothes were already properly set out. She slipped from her pajamas cautiously, but stepping into the water felt so glorious that she dropped all reserve and enjoyed the rare little luxury.

And when she stepped out into the hall, clean and dressed for work, the delightful smell of an actual _breakfast_ met her nose.

In the kitchen, the dinette was already set. There was a placemat, and the silverware set out was gleaming. There was a plate there, with eggs and sausage, and toast on a small plate to the side. There was an assortment of jams and jellies on the table that she hadn't even realized she _owned_. Orange juice, milk, fruit, whatever she could've wished for, it was definitely there. There was even a vase with a small arrangement of flowers in the middle of the table.

On the side of the kitchen behind her, where the cabinets and appliances were, she could feel Itachi watching her. She turned and looked at him uneasily. He didn't look so sure of himself either, but offered a small smile.

"Anything else I can get you?"

"… Coffee."

"Understood."

Now, it wasn't that she was _accepting_ him being here. But you don't look at a romantic breakfast like this and say "Sorry, I don't eat first thing in the morning." You just _don't_. So instead, she sat down at the table and scooted her chair in, examining the sumptuous meal before her.

… Now that she looked at it, though, the toast was a little burnt.

And the eggs were just a little dry.

She glanced at the sink, and even though he'd made an effort to clean up, it looked like he'd dirtied half her cookware in one go. On his nervous face, which was currently concentrating so _very_ hard on making coffee, Sakura could easily see the little bit of red staining his cheeks.

He'd just tried really _extra_ hard to make her this fancy breakfast when, apparently, he wasn't so very good at cooking.

"… When are you going to leave?" His movements stilled, and then he picked up the coffee pot and poured two mugs full. He set one on the table before her.

"According to Tsunade-sama, we will be allowed to handle this situation at our own discretion. I will stay here with you unless you decide to leave with me."

Strawberry jam-covered toast halfway in her mouth, it was Sakura's turn to pause. He was staying.

… He was… _staying_?!

She choked on her breakfast, and in alarm, the young man set his coffee on the table and handed her a glass of milk, which she emphatically refused. She cursed violently between her coughs until the fit calmed. In the midst of her suffering she hadn't noticed, but when she shoved the glass away, it had dumped all over him. He stood at her side, soaked from stomach to knees in milk.

"The hell you're staying! I am _not_ living under the same roof as you!" Her glare was met with a pair of sad, dark eyes.

She didn't care.

She _hated_ him.

He was trying to take _that person's _place, but she wouldn't let him. She refused.

In a rage-filled silence, she stood and shouldered her bag, walking around him to reach the kitchen door. When she spoke, it was over her shoulder. He wasn't supposed to be here. She didn't want to see him in the house where _he didn't belong_.

"Itachi, I want you out. Just leave. Leave, and don't look back."

* * *

Her hospital shift wasn't long enough. She didn't want to go home.

"Sakura-san, I know you're supposed to leave in a few minutes, but-?"

"Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Umm… one of the genin was bit by a snake. I was going to administer the antivenin, but apparently he's allergic to one of the chemicals. Could you-?"

"Yes, I'll take care of it. Go rest in the lounge and I'll finish your rounds; you've been here too long."

"Eh? Oh… thank you…"

"Not at all." _Anything to keep from going back to that apartment._

Anything to keep from going back to the place where she lived. Either she would be alone in that dark, quiet place… or…

Or _he_ would still be there.

She wanted to suppress the picture of him that was floating up in her head. The long, dark hair. The soulful black eyes. The memory of seeing him that morning, soaked in the milk he'd offered her, made her feel guilty. At the same time, her anger was real… Anger, guilt, mistrust.

Damn him for being such a chaotic existence. _Every_ time he entered her life, under _whatever_ circumstance, it turned into a absolutely anarchic _mess._

The rookie that'd gotten a snakebite was fine once she pulled out the poison and gave him an altered antidote. The nurse that she'd taken over for had been in the middle of pulling a third shift, and the medic finished up for her, and all the paperwork that went with it. A woman that had been expecting came in with _unexpected_ contractions, and Sakura was drafted to help with the delivery. Everything from splinters and stitches to a major surgery kept her at the hospital until late, and she was undeniably thankful. On the way home she bought a bottle of high-grade sake, and popped the cork while she walked. By the time she reached her building, there wasn't a drop left, and it went straight in the dumpster outside the complex.

She wanted to eat. Then again, eating would mean she would have to fix something, and that would be a bother.

But when she walked through the kitchen door, there was a small meal- a bowl of steaming soup and some crackers and cheese- already set out on the table, with a glass of water and some sort of tea or cider. She whipped around and, quietly drying a plate beside her sink, she saw him.

Without thinking twice, she dashed down the hallway that ran the length of her apartment, and locked herself in her room. There weren't enough tears left to cry her to sleep.

* * *

Sakura hadn't seen any sign of him in her room when she woke up. She showered and dressed like she always did, and only when she had to unlock her bedroom door did she have physical proof that she hadn't only been dreaming.

At the intersection, she could see all her living room and most of the kitchen, and what had once been a near-disastrous mess was now neat and tidy. The bottles were gone, the papers were apparently filed, the books and movies were on their respective shelves, and a quiet CD that was apparently classical cello was playing softly in the room to break up the silence. The coffee table had been polished. The floor and furniture had been vacuumed. When she looked in the kitchen, the counters were spotless, and all the dishes had been taken care of.

_He_ wasn't anywhere to be seen. But her house was absolutely spotless.

On the dinette, the bowl of fruit had, apparently, been recently pulled from the refrigerator. The flowers were fresh, and in a different vase. There wasn't anything waiting for her to eat, but the coffee was still piping hot, and the proper amount of sugar and creamer had been left on the counter beside a large, deep red mug. The monumental pile of dishes that'd been in the sink the previous morning was nowhere to be found, and the leak in her faucet had apparently been fixed.

Uchiha Itachi had done all this, presumably, for her.

She poured her coffee, and mixed in the extra ingredients in silence. It felt oddly familiar, the way the house was dark and grey in the early morning light. It'd only been one morning, but waking up to a warm house, a lit kitchen and a fresh, huge breakfast had made the cold feeling in her bones seem deeper and somehow misplaced compared to before. Finishing her coffee, she placed the cup in the sink and went to the kitchen door to slip on her shoes.

When she looked up, there was a simple note in unfamiliar handwriting taped on the door.

Something so simple, and Haruno Sakura, again, broke down and cried.

* * *

**AN: Okay, YES, Sakura is weepy this chapter. That's okay, it's just this one. This is also one of the SHORTEST chapters that I've written thus far in this story, but don't worry about that either- the next chapter is possibly the longest single chapter I've ever written. It doesn't rank up there with paws-bells or Cynchick stuff, but it IS a record for me.**

**Side note to CherryJubilee: You were right; Sakura was trying to throw off the grief of Kakashi's death. She was also trying to run away from the confusion of apparently being 'married.' XP And Itachi's motives are in the next chapter, so you only have to wait a bit more. ^^ As to Soul-Mirror, yeah; the plotting there wasn't very well done; I don't even remember what the base idea was anymore, if there ever was one. I think I was trying to use their deal to make Orochimaru the enemy as the main plot point, but I lost track of what I was doing. Tehe. As for the archaic phrasing... I was actually thinking that way. I still do sometimes. I have to stop myself and turn it back into modern terms, because I think in archaic British accents. XDD**

**THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I feel much better about this story now. ^^ Don't forget to let me know what you think- feedback is important!**

**SO REVIEW! XP**


	5. I Know You Won't

**5~ ****I ****Know ****You ****Won't**

All it'd said was "_Itterashai_."

It hadn't been signed. It didn't need to be.

Sakura had called in sick. She couldn't go to work with her face all puffy and red from crying. No way in hell would she tarnish the name of 'Earthquake Haruno' because of something like this. And here she was again, sitting on the window seat and staring out at the park across the way. The leaves were bright with a hundred different shades of orange and red, and many had already turned loose of the trees. Kids that were playing on the swings were bundled up in hats and gloves and jackets to ward against the biting cold.

There were already half a dozen empty sake bottles on the floor. A nearly empty bottle was hanging from her limp left hand. The same CD was still playing over and over in the background, and the only reason she wasn't freezing was because _he_ had apparently turned up the thermostat before disappearing to only God cared where.

Kakashi was the one who was supposed to be here.

Kakashi was the one who was supposed to be so sweet.

Kakashi was the one who was supposed to take care of her. Love her. Cherish her. Listen to her needs, her complaints, and comfort her when she needed it. He was the one who was supposed to vow his eternal love to her and place a ring on her finger.

So why wasn't it him? What in hell were the Fates thinking when they killed the man she loved and married her to the man she hated?

She took the last swig left in the bottle and gulped it down, and then shattered the container against the opposite living room wall. It wasn't like she cared what the neighbors thought. The whole town already knew that her life was pretty well in shambles, so there was no use trying to hide it now.

This, more than six months later, was the first day of work she'd missed.

Only once had she gotten so drunk that she couldn't take care of herself.

The once was enough to ruin her life for good.

The lights were off. Even if the room was warm, it was still lifeless. A home that was supposed to be warm and full of light had turned into a tribute to the person who's memory now haunted her.

His shaving cream was still in her medicine cabinet.

A few of his clothes were still in her closet.

The wedding dress, still stained with mud from her falling to the ground at his gravesite funeral, remained on her floor caked in dried clay and brown blades of grass that had long since wasted away. And to top it all off, one of his stupid Icha Icha Paradise books was still in the nightstand drawer.

Hatake Kakashi.

_Kakashi…_

He was still all around her.

* * *

She was awake. Just suddenly _awake_, and perfectly aware of herself. Dazzling sunlight was streaming into her spring-green and gold-decorated room, making it seem sparkly and bright. The air was warm. Vaguely, the smell of cinnamon drifted to her from outside the door.

_He_ was back again. There was no doubt about that.

She didn't have the strength to worry over it, to object to it. He was there, a place where he shouldn't be. Her very own paradox, though its examination would have to wait until she had all her faculties back in working order. She wasn't quite aware of when, but between the time she opened her eyes and when she finally managed to sit up and lean against the headboard, the source of all her problems appeared aside her, holding a tray of food. Before she had time to say anything, he was settling it on her lap- a bowl of what smelled like cinnamon apple oatmeal, with a bowl of orange slices, and a small plate with tiny sausages on them. Simple things. He settled a glass of orange juice and a mug of cinnamon-smelling tea on her bedside table.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry." His gaze had seemed tranquil at first, but it steeled to obstinacy.

"You haven't eaten for three days. If you're not hungry, I'm not human."

"Does that mean you're admitting it?" He sighed. The man moved down to the end of the bed and carefully took a seat.

"I'm not a monster, Sakura-san. You know my story."

"I know the part about Sasuke. What I _don't_ know is the part about _us_." She didn't touch the food. Just simply stared down at it, as if something would emerge to eat her while he distracted her. It was in this way that she missed the slightly ironic smile that contorted his face. "I was drunk. Was there some reason for this?"

"I'm not sure either. I was drunk too."

…

"Care to repeat that?" When she looked up at him, her face was straight. Really, it was. But _his_ wasn't. She missed the ironic smile, but his 'impassive' mask was slipping.

He was most definitely blushing. Just a light dusting cross his cheekbones, but it was quite obviously there.

"I was drunk. I suppose I was simply acting on my true desires."

"How do _true desires_ enter this conversation exactly?" His head turned away, and he didn't answer. His ears were turning so red that she almost, _almost_ (I mean, hello, last time an Uchiha blushed?), wanted to forgive him without even hearing the reply. "Itachi. _Answer_ me."

"Because… I love you."

…

"You can't be serious."

Well, he'd answered. He _had_ answered. That couldn't be denied, but it certainly _wasn't_ what she wanted to hear. Wasn't what she'd _expected_ to hear, either. The only thing that told her he _might_, on the off-chance that Hell was currently having a snowstorm, be telling the truth… was the fact that his ears were nearly _purple_ they were so red.

Uchiha Itachi was in love with her.

"I was always watching over Sasuke… and you were always close to him. When you were in the Academy, I noticed your hair first, in a crowd of girls that were mooning over him. I didn't think much of you then… but you became more and more special to him." Nervously, and with much hesitation, he turned around to face her. He ended up sitting Indian style on the foot of her bed, a hand buried compulsively in the hair at the based of his neck.

If she stretched her foot a little, it would've touched him.

"You ended up as teammates, which surprised me. But as his teammate, I also had to protect you. To that extent, you were special to him." He was looking everywhere but her face, but as he came to his next thought, an absolutely clear worm of jealousy made its way into his expression. "You were… probably more than just a teammate to him.

"But he left. In the years Akatsuki was quiet and Orochimaru had his claws in my brother, Naruto was guarded by Jiraiya. I was allowed to wander freely, and I often came to Konoha. You were the closest person to my brother that I had safe access to." Sakura watched him. She hadn't known he was there. Not once. How close had he gotten, she wondered, without being noticed by _anyone_, not even the Hokage herself? "I watched you grow in strength, knowledge and maturity… and before I knew what I was doing, I had a certain… affection for you.

"You liked to dance in the rain. Enjoy cold things over warm things, preferred fruits to artificial sweets. Actually preferred more tomboyish clothing over the more feminine things that the other girls were wearing. You thought mixing up poisons and threatening people with them was fun. Before I even noticed what I was doing, I hadn't analyzed your behavior, I'd simply memorized it all. Just simply…"

He trailed off. His eyes landed on the bowl of oatmeal, which had gone cold; then he memorized his way across the wrinkles and creases in her nightshirt. He wanted to look at her face, but at this point, he didn't have enough courage to accomplish something that, at first thought, should've been so simple.

"Just simply…?"

At her prompting, which was in a voice full of so many emotions he couldn't tell one from the next, his eyes met hers of their own will. Those beautiful, beautiful green eyes, that looked cruel like a predator and sweet like the prey.

"Just simply… because I wanted to. Because at that time I… had already… probably long since… fallen in love with you."

* * *

For the first time in two days, Sakura was out of bed and testing her strength.

The curtains were pulled away from the window, but even so the sky outside was blue-gray, and the clouds didn't amount to much more than nondescript fog. Her room, in turn, was shadowed and gray, instead of bright.

But instead of feeling depressed, she felt refreshed. Strangely so.

The heater was cranked up to the point that it felt like she was already wrapped in a coat. The steam was floating gently from the bathroom, where he'd already made her a hot bath with fragrant salts to help relax her. The room somehow smelled of _clean_, if clean was to have a smell, instead of something stale and stagnant.

She soaked in the luxurious bath until the water was nearly cold, and by the time she came back out, a warm pair of slacks and a soft, fuzzy sweater had been laid on the bed for her. She slipped on a pair of socks with them, and wandered out into the hall; the mild smell of bread, mixed with the sweet smell of blueberries, met her nose. He was cooking again.

She had learned he wasn't particularly fond of that chore. It was one of the few things that he, the infamous S-class shinobi, prodigy of the Uchiha clan, could not handle perfectly.

According to him, it was the most embarrassing thing, right _after_ his low alcohol tolerance.

He already knew lots about her. He'd been watching her for nigh on seven years already. So for the last two days, however awkwardly, he told her about himself. He liked sweets. All kinds of sweets. He enjoyed historical drama, both in book and movie format. His interest in the medical field hadn't been totally faked; though he didn't have any special aptitude for it, he did enjoy a vast range of knowledge on plants and roots used for medicinal purposes.

And unlike Sasuke, he was very, very sweet.

There were things he didn't have to tell her. She just noticed. He was a little shy, and generally quiet. He was observant by nature, and was also very keen on her moods. He felt frustrated simply because he wasn't a great cook, and embarrassed that his weakness to alcohol had put them in this situation that he (almost openly) appreciated. He was a compulsive cleaner; when he was embarrassed, frustrated or irritated in any manner, he would clean, clean, clean his cares away. And even though he wasn't muttering to himself all the while, she was sure there was a lot of ranting going on in his head. She could see it in his eyes, and it amused her to no end.

Just like she'd started to think. He… wasn't quite so misplaced anymore.

She crept up behind him and stood on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder at the stove. He didn't turn to look at her, but she could see a smile quirk the corners of his lips. He was making blueberry pancakes. Very _carefully_ making blueberry pancakes… but when she glanced at the plate beside the stove, it looked like he hadn't really _harmed_ anything…

Actually, they looked great.

The smelled even better than great.

"Don't even _think_ about snitching, Sakura-san. It's not good for you."

"Miser."

His smile got a little wider, and his eyes gentled. The small, barely-perceptible puff that came from his nose was as much of a laugh as she ever got. The kunoichi supposed he didn't really laugh that much. So… she could forgive him. It took a bit of study, but she knew that these were the signs that he was actually quite amused by her. She trotted over to the small breakfast table and sat down. The flowers and vase were different again. Daffodils, in a cute, green vase with the top edge frosted white.

Daffodils… "The Sun in Bright when I am with You."

"Yes. It also implies respect, regard, or unrequited love, depending on how it is arranged."

She pouted. That hadn't been meant to be said aloud. When the woman turned back to look at him, he was still carefully tending the batter in the pan, that gentle smile on his face. It was a moment where he wouldn't really look at her, so she decided to observe him while she had the chance. His dark sleeping pants drooped over tanned, bare feet, and a muscle shirt clung to his frame just enough to show off his physique. Of course, most every shinobi male had abs to drool over, so that wasn't anything special. She was _used_ to it, being a medic. But he was definitely different.

Like a proud, majestic predator. An unmanageable mountain cat.

That 'cat' was currently making her breakfast again, with a pleasant smile on his face. He slid the last pancake onto a plate, and slipped a pat of butter on top. Settling the two plates on opposite sides of the table, the man returned to the other side of the kitchen, making a few more trips. More fruit, more syrups, more toppings, more drinks.

Well, whatever he did, you couldn't say he didn't do it to his utmost.

"Itachi, I believe you can sit down now. The pancakes'll get cold." He paused as he was pulling the cream from the cabinet next to the fridge, and then after a second, he was in his chair before she even realized he moved. The bangs were hiding his face.

If he moved, she was sure she'd see him blushing.

"_Itadakimasu_."

He mumbled the phrase himself as she was taking the first bite, but she didn't really pay attention. For being a guy who 'wasn't good at cooking,' he had certainly done a _fine_ job on the hotcakes. Even without syrup, and only a little bit of butter, they were delicious- light and fluffy, and slightly sweet, with the faintly sour tang of berries seeping through the insides delectably.

"You're either improving, or you could cook from the start. They're delicious." His fork paused, just as he was about to slip a sliced strawberry into his mouth.

"… Thank you…"

She observed him. He was in one of those unusually quiet stages again. Maybe it meant that her comment earlier had bothered or embarrassed him more than she thought.

"I've noticed… but you have a pretty meek personality." She felt a ridiculous amount of relief when he looked up at her.

"I've always been this way. Father used to say that… I bent too easily to the wills of others."

"I can hardly imagine that." A smile quirked the corner of his lips, but he didn't answer. The breakfast silence was more comfortable now. That, at least, was an improvement over the awkwardness he'd brought to the table.

"_Gochisousama deshita_!" Sakura stretched, and then stood from the table, walking towards the back door and pulling her coat off the counter. She was well aware of Itachi's eyes following her, even before he spoke.

"… You're working today?"

"I've already taken more days off this week than I have in four years of medical service. I think it's time to get back to the grind." She slipped on her boots, and wrapped the coat around her shoulders lightly. "I've got an extra uniform at the hospital, so I'll just go like this. It's warmer anyway. I don't know what you'll be up to today, but be careful to stay out of sight. I'm off!"

"_Itterashai_."

The word drifted to her quietly as the door closed, and though it felt odd… she couldn't say it was unwelcome. She'd always left with a spring in her step when Kakashi had said that. Now… now it was Itachi saying it. And even though there wasn't a spring in her step, it felt as though a wind was at her back, pushing her along strongly. It wasn't a bad feeling at all.

But… then she would think about it. All the residual resentment there'd been was somehow just _gone_. Sasuke was dead because Naruto had to kill him. Naruto _almost_ died because Itachi was _supposed_ to kill him. Almost all the pain and anguish in her life could, by some means, be linked back to Itachi and Uchiha Madara.

But where, once, the mention of Itachi's name had brought a strong sense of bitterness out of her, now… it didn't really. He had turned her perception of him on its head, and the result was that she couldn't really identify him as the monster she'd always thought he was.

He murdered his entire family on orders from the Sandaime. He left his brother alive out of love and guilt, but baited him into dedicating his life to revenge, which was supposed to make him Konoha's ironclad ally. When he supposedly died- and how he was alive she still didn't know- Sasuke heard his brother's tragic history from Madara and turned his vengeance-seeking soul towards Konoha in complete disregard of his brother's desires. As much as Itachi had been an instigator of tragedy, he'd also… been a victim.

By seeing him the way she did every day, it was so, so much easier to understand that.

The hospital's glass door swung open silently, but the nurse on shift looked up and gave a pleasantly surprised smile.

"Welcome back, Sakura-san! Tsunade-sama said you were ill; is it alright to come back so soon?" The young woman returned the smile and took the sign-in sheet from behind the desk.

"I'm much better now. It was just built-up stress and a bit of fever." The dubious look across the nurse's face was not missed. She sighed a little. "Alright, so it was high enough that I was hardly conscious half the time, but I'm _fine_ now. I feel like I'll forget how to treat people if I stay away any longer, so let me _work_ for heaven's sake."

And work she did. Like a madman. Woman.

Two shifts, four major surgeries and a dozen broken bones later, Sakura was bone-tired, and felt like nirvana wasn't very far away. Her feet and legs were wobbly and it felt like she was floating, and she was light-headed and giddy like a teenager high on a crush.

She was ridiculously pleased with herself for no apparent reason other than a good, hard day at work that had exhausted her beyond sanity.

So weaving down the road like a drunken mess when she was perfectly sober was the last thing on her mind. She knew where she was going since she hadn't lost _all_ her wits, but without warning, a pair of strong arms whisked her up in the classic princess-hold that most girls only fantasized about. It didn't register for several seconds, but the person carrying her was going at breakneck speed atop the roofs of Konoha's residential district by _blocks_, instead of only buildings.

"I can take care of myself, Sai. If you don't put me down, I'm gonna hurt you." It came out slightly slurred, but she didn't bother to let go of his neck as he continued his run. Above the sound of the wind whipping past them, Sakura heard a very familiar puff, followed by a surprising whisper.

"I won't release you, Sakura-san. This is much faster. It's too dangerous for you to be so defenseless when out at this time of night."

The voice made her sober a bit, though when she did, the exhaustion seemed to affect her more.

"Itachi?"

"I was attending to some business. I had expected to you be home already, and likely asleep."

"I worked an extra shift at the hospital to catch up a little…"

"Your fever was still unbearable yesterday. You shouldn't overwork yourself." His reproving words were gentle, and even as the adrenaline wore off and she started to get sleepy, she could hear that he was very concerned. As concerned as he ever let on with anyone, which was still only slight.

But to her, it was if he was pleading, because she was familiar with him by now.

"You smell funny."

"I apologize. I will bathe when we return." She was staring at the nape of his neck, where his ponytail was tied. He really did have a lot of odd scents on him.

"Tobacco… opium… cologne… incense… sandalwood… makeup… perfume…"

A combination that she liked by no means. He smelled like an expensive geisha house. His neck, what she could see of it through darkness and blurry vision, was turning a dull red; but soon they had arrived at her apartment and he was inside before the porch light even flickered on at his movement. He slipped out of his boots with her still in his arms, and walked noiselessly through the house; over the kitchen's linoleum and the hallway's carpet, and the combined wood flooring and soft, plush rugs of her room. It wasn't all coherent to her fuzzy mind anymore, but he was slipping her boots off, and then her apron, and her kunai holster. Her shirt was next, and she noted groggily how he gently slipped a silky nightgown over her head before working her out of her undershirt, bra and shorts. Cotton sheets felt cool against her skin, and the suede comforter was soft and downy.

It made her remember that dream that Itachi had probably shown her. The dream of their wedding night, where the sheets had been satin and the suede comforter had stroked her skin with a chill of cold whenever it had touched her in the midst of their passion. Her toes, her feet, the backs of her legs. And when they had finished, he had wrapped her gently in that comforter, and like the man she'd made love to, it quickly turned from a chill cold to a warm embrace.

She wasn't bothering to chase off those thoughts right now. She had to seriously _think_ about her situation, even though now, when she was almost completely asleep, certainly wasn't the time to do it. Vaguely, she could hear the sound of running water from her shower, and she recalled Itachi's promise to shower as soon as he got back.

He was her husband. He was legally her _husband_. They were a _married couple_. And when she thought about it, they had been acting an awful lot like that very thing the last few days.

She was sleepy. She wanted to just fall into oblivion until further notice, but she just couldn't let go of consciousness yet. The bathroom door opened, and humidity flooded the room with heat. He came closer and crept up on the edge of the bed cautiously, leaning down close and whispering in her ear. "Better?"

His scent was somehow all around her. Insanely all around her. It was masculine, and warm- the ingrained scent of metal and forest was barely there under the scent of water, soap and _him_. And it was so simply mild and _intoxicating_ that she didn't even bother to stop herself before she curled her arms around his neck and drew him closer. She nuzzled his neck sleepily, settling back beneath the covers, and taking his upper body with her as she burrowed back into the pillows.

He was hers. He was simply _hers_ at the moment, though she was certain both of them knew that she wasn't exactly _his_. With this thought, all notion of need to stay conscious simply _vanished_, and she fell into the void of sleep.

* * *

The next morning she woke at the reasonable time of five thirty-two, and thought the events of the previous night were fuzzy, there were still there in her head.

It was the only reason she didn't come totally unglued at the fact that Uchiha Itachi was snuggled next to her.

She was under the covers and he was over them, so they were exactly right next to each other, but he _was_ shirtless, and his hair was unbound and flipped wildly this way an that, and mildly tangled and curly since it hadn't been brushed. He was apparently still asleep if his breathing was any indication, and she didn't have the slightest inclination to wake him. Her arms were still wrapped loosely around his shoulders, as his were wrapped around her waist, head nestled securely against her collarbone. Asleep like this, he really _did_ look his age.

He was only 24. And she was 19. For a man so renowned, he was unbelievably young.

He stirred lightly. Long, black-brown eyelashes fluttered a bit, and then opened. His steady breathing didn't really change, and his ebony eyes were still cloudy and unfocused with sleep. He was downright _groggy_.

And it was cute.

His nose brushed her chin as he moved carefully to sit up, but when he realized she was awake, he quickly turned his head away in surprise. His cheeks were already turning a bit red again.

"Excuse me. You wouldn't let go last night, and I couldn't bring myself to wake you…"

Sakura allowed her arms to slide off his shoulders, hands trailing delicately down his biceps before falling away. It had been entirely on purpose. She was judging him.

He pulled away quickly, and walked out the door without looking at her.

Exactly like every morning before, he made her breakfast. He really _was_ getting better at cooking, though he still burnt things sometimes, and he had to resort to simple things with fruit or toast that didn't involve much effort. He only cooked for her this morning. He was busy scrubbing the dishes in the sink, and she was absolutely sure he was only taking out his embarrassment on the poor object.

"Sakura-san… do you know what time you'll be returning tonight?"

"Not a clue. Why?" He struggled a minute.

"My business… could not be concluded in one night, and I will be out again this evening." She murmured a questioning noise through a mouthful of sausage. "Please do not return so late again; you are not yet well."

"I'm _fine_. I slept like a rock last night and I could demolish a mountain if I wanted to." She smiled as she finished eating, and then went to the door to slip on her coat and boots. "Just do what you need to do, Itachi. I'm not holding you back. As long as you're not hurting anyone of Konoha, it's fine."

* * *

That night, he came back, and she had waited for him to his surprise. He tried to hide it, but he couldn't; there was lipstick on the edge of his shirt. The next night, he returned with his hair-tie missing. The next he stumbled in dead drunk, and she found more kiss marks and remnants of lipstick on his neck and chest.

Sakura wasn't saying anything. It was his business what he did in his spare time.

So she told herself.

Tonight he was drunk again, and the smell of cologne and tobacco was overwhelming. He stumbled down the hall with her as a support until they reached the guest room where he'd been staying.

"Itachi, you realize you can't handle alcohol, right?" Sakura grunted impatiently as she attempted to open the door. In her frustration, she broke the knob. He was going to pay for that later. "You big idiot. You're not supposed to go out and get blind drunk when you've got such a pathetically low tolerance!"

His incoherent mumble conveyed only that he was submissively apologizing, as well as he possibly could in his inebriated state. She dumped him on the bed, and proceeded to pull him out of his coat and the shirt beneath. Her eyes darkened and narrowed as she examined him. There were scratches on his body that were obviously fresh, and there were more deep red traces of lipstick. Cologne, perfume, opium, tobacco. She was sick of that smell.

"Bastard."

His eyes flew open, practically sober at that one word, but she was already slamming the door behind her. The cracking of the doorframe made his heart break.

She just didn't realize.

The next morning, she didn't even see him. Or the next. But the third morning, when she was returning at 3 AM after a late shift, she finally _did_ see him. Her hackles were raising.

They were _married_, weren't they? He was the one who instigated all this trouble. He was the one who insisted on staying. He was trying to open her up, right? If he was gonna be so damn persistent about it, he could've at least tried to wait _until_ she'd fallen in love with him like a fool before he ran off and started playing around like the badass criminal he was trying to convince her he wasn't. Who was to say whether he really cared or not?

"Back to your backup plan? Did your girlfriend dump you?" She spat the words with no uncertain amount of malice. His shoulders stiffened, but he remained standing in the middle of the kitchen, back to her. She didn't like his impassive façade. If he wanted to convince her that he was in love with her, he could at least beg her to let him explain. "Can't you just leave me the hell alone? You've played out your welcome, Itachi."

"You don't understand."

"No, I sure as hell don't. Was there some point in trying to convince me you were in love with me? Because you damn well threw it away without accomplishing it."

He wasn't looking at her. He was just standing there, probably _refusing_ to look at her, and she hated it. Borderline hated _him_, but it hadn't quite escalated to that yet. She observed his back critically, hoping that the thought of her spiteful eyes drilling into him was making him uncomfortable as hell.

Then she noticed it. The tiny trickle of blood running down his fingers to drip on the floor.

She shot around the front of him, and finally saw what he'd been hiding. Bruised, bloody; his face was a picture of chaos. His clothes looked untouched, but she could tell that his face wasn't the only thing damaged. A bit of blood seeped through and turned dark on the black clothing.

"I never once betrayed you, Sakura-san. If ever, you must believe me this time."

He looked like he was about to pass out. He looked like he was about to simply collapse there on the floor, and he was still on that. Without regard to his wishes, she flooded her arms with chakra and hoisted him over her shoulder, rearranging him carefully when she realized that there was a broken rib to be cautious of. Two or three, actually. He seemed to find this situation uncomfortable, which she really couldn't blame him, and his lucidity no longer seemed to be escaping. He lightly protested, but he was laying on his bed soon enough. Sakura neatly sliced his shirt in two with a small blade of chakra, and was left looking at an absolute mess.

If he hadn't been known as a criminal, she would've long since hauled him to the hospital.

Hands flared green-white, and the powerful, precise chakra shot beneath his skin urgently. He didn't flinch. His black, black eyes only watched her mournfully, and his hands trembled. From agony of heart or body… she didn't know.

"I touched no other woman, Sakura-san. No other woman could tear me away from you."

"Shut up and relax already! You've been turned into chili con carne on the inside, and talking isn't helping me put this damn puzzle back together!"

Eyes wide, hands moving; she couldn't believe the damage he'd taken. This was _the_ Uchiha Itachi, right? She grimaced as she reached her chakra into his lungs, repairing a place where one had been punctured raggedly. His ribs repaired slowly, the blood that had to be suctioned out simply splattered on the floor because she didn't have time to get something to dump it in. And when she was beginning to get frustrated with him again, he did something she hadn't expected at all.

He ran his fingers sweetly through her hair. Just touching her hair, her cheek. Petting, almost. Whether it was to comfort his self or her, or to convince her that he was really telling the truth… she didn't know. Honestly, she didn't. But after that instant of shock and with the momentary calm he'd given her, she pushed on, rearranging his insides to a semblance of real anatomy.

When she was done, she was near tears. Again. Damn it, what _was_ it about this man that brought her to her knees?

"If you ever get yourself into a mess like this again, I swear I'll beat the tar out of you and throw your ass in the nearest ocean."

"My apologies, Sakura-san."

His quiet voice soothed her. She hated it. Because she was supposed to hate _him_ right now, for always coming back to her even if there was someone else. Something didn't add up about his condition of the previous days and tonight, so she let it go. She wanted to cling to those words that he'd said…

"_I never once betrayed you, Sakura-san…"_

She wanted to believe that he hadn't gone to another so much that it would've surprised her; if she weren't so exhausted and stressed, and above all scared witless.

Kakashi was gone. He was already _gone_.

But this, this man she had once _hated_, was now her only thread. The last straw she was clinging to. This bastard had turned her into a dependent little girl, and she _despised_ it, but it was still the truth. Her head flopped down on the covers next to his hip, and she stared at him dolefully, her anger long since fizzled out.

"If you ever worry me like this again, I'll friggin' kill you."

"I won't." He smiled softly. She wanted to stop crying, but the tears were already slipping out again. She simply slipped into sleep, his hand still stroking her hair.

* * *

**AN: Yup, here's the next chapter! It's the longest, and will remain the longest. In fact, it seems that chapters will be moderately short after this, due to having to work according to the challenge. My apologies! But I still think you'll enjoy it. ^^ You're nearly halfway through it now!**

**Lemme know what you think! ^^ Critiques are above and beyond simply welcome!**

**Flames are prohibited. I'll grind you into dust, little pests.**


	6. So Small

_**Note:** Ragnell pointed out that I had a lapse in manners; my apologies! I kept increasing the amount of notes at the beginning of the first chapter, and then I edited them... but I forgot to give credit to another author for inspiring this idea! Cloudmaiden Nephele has a story called "Last Name" that moderately inspired me to do this story- the other half of my inspiration was realizing that the whole album could be rearranged into a singular story at the same time. ^^ My apologies to everyone for this delayed common courtesy._

_In a final note: thank you all for defending me against the "ANON" reviews- his remarks were harmful, and your support for a struggling writer is touching. ^^ I hope you all enjoy the rest of the story!_

**6~ ****So ****Small**

He'd been posing as a hangyoku at a famous geisha house in a town several miles from Konoha to investigate a prominent foreign dignitary. He said it was on Tsunade's orders.

She had a feeling that Tsunade had nothing to do with it, but she didn't say anything. This was the first time he'd kept a secret from her since he'd come here, and she would let him keep it until he was ready, however much she didn't want to.

It was her turn to serve him, though.

He really _had_ almost been turned into chili con carne on the inside. The first day or so he couldn't even keep down water, much less anything else. She stirred the soup she was making slowly. It was a clear broth, with just a few vegetables here and there. She considered it a perfect meal for the convalescing. When she took it to him, he looked to be asleep; but his eyes flickered open, and looked over at her as she came to him. Glazed with pain, or sleep, or whatever else could possibly make him look like that- she refused to suggest love or affection, and that was that-, he watched her as she helped him sit up. Her steady hands fed him fed him gently, and he silently, gratefully accepted.

Haggard features heavy with exhaustion weren't new to her, but this was the first time she had seen him so defenseless. There was a stinging of guilt at the back of her heart, but she didn't know why. With every failed attempt to lift his hands, there was a hot streak of lightning that seemed to tie itself around her heart like barbed wire. It _hurt_. He was _hurt_.

He would be fine, yes… but he was in pain. She couldn't decide if it made her sad, or just pissed her off; and the more she couldn't decide, the more it distressed her. He couldn't even finish the small bowl of soup she'd made; he sighed slightly, and slipped back into sleep. She set the bowl aside and checked his condition; things were repairing themselves well, but she helped them along anyway. His ribs had gone from broken to cracked, and she finished healing them. His stomach had been punctured, and even though she'd closed it up, she returned it to full function. She checked for the who-knew-what-number-times to see if there were any bone fragments she'd missed, if there were any little punctures or rips, or anything at all that she hadn't found, but there wasn't anything. It was just painful.

She numbed it, and then left him to sleep. She'd completely repaired his lung when he first came in, and the stain of splattered blood on the hardwood floor was still there as proof.

With less than a clear conscience, she slipped on her boots and coat, stepping out into the steadily colder winter air. Her hospital shift started soon, but her mind was far from thoughts of it. Itachi was sleeping fitfully in that stark guest bedroom, and she wanted nothing more than to stay there and make sure he didn't wake up and try to do something stupid. She power-walked to the hospital, signing in irritably, much to the surprise of the nurse on duty.

And on her rounds, there was something _else_ unpleasant- Ino was her first patient of the day.

"Hi forehead. You've been busy; miss me?"

"If you're not injured or sick, Pig, I expect you to _bolt_ for the door. Or I'll _really_ give you a reason to be here." The blonde clucked her tongue and turned around, wincing as she pulled her shirt over her head. Her back was covered shoulder to butt in scratches.

"I'm quite injured, thank you. I was sparring with Shika and lost my balance. The pine tree that caught me was quite unfriendly, I'll have you know." Turned around as she was, she couldn't see the half-pout plastered on Sakura's face. "What's got _you_ so pissed, hmm? Can't be a guy."

The alcohol-soaked cotton swab that she'd been dabbing a scratch with suddenly _dug_ into her, causing the mind-walker to yelp.

"Good crud, Forehead! Be careful, would you?!" She paused. "Wait a sec… it _is_ a guy?!"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Your nearly killing me with pain was answer enough." Ino turned around, baby blue eyes examining her best friend keenly. "Who is he."

It wasn't a question at all. It was a command. But Sakura continued to ignore her and merely rubbed at the messing scratches all over her back. Ino wasn't having it.

"Is he good to you?" She paused. Green eyes, a little angry, and little bitter, narrowed.

"Very."

"He doesn't act like a narcissist or an asshole?" She shook her head.

"He's really sweet."

"How well do you know him?" Sakura hesitated to answer again, and the blonde's eyes narrowed critically. "Sakura?"

"I know him… well. And at the same time, I wonder. It's complicated."

"What are his bad traits?" She laughed a little, dryly.

"He internalizes everything, worries too much, cleans like a maniac and can't handle liquor to save his life." The way the other girl cocked her eyebrows indicated that she didn't really think of those as bad points. "He says he isn't the greatest cook- and yeah, he still burns things-, but he really goes all out to try and please me. My house is so clean it doesn't even look like the same place. I can fluster him easily, but I also know he has an incredible poker face when he wants. But… he's docile… really gentle. When I was sick last week, he took care of me."

Ino was still giving her an examining look.

"Sounds like a sweetheart. Are you sure he's not faking it?" The bitter smile on her face didn't change, but her expression turned into a fond sort of complicated. Yeah, she was sure. The blonde heaved a sigh, and slipped her shirt back on, since the medic was finished. "Then you'd better put a collar on him, because it looks like he does you good."

"He's the one who said he was in love with _me_, Pig."

"Good. Then let him put a collar on _you_. Or maybe a muzzle. I may have to warn him." The pink-haired kunoichi gave a sour face, and her friend cackled mysteriously. "Don't worry. It's not like you told me who he is, and I wouldn't _actually_ tell him that anyway."

"Gee, thanks. I don't even really want to think about the two of you meeting." Sakura was glad that she didn't ask why. Ino rearranged herself and slid from the exam table.

"At any rate, it's _time_ for you to move on. Shinobi don't have the luxury of dwelling on things, y'know?" The two shared their bitter smiles. "Move on. Fall in love. Get a _life_, before it passes you by."

"I don't want to hear that from you. Have you even told Shikamaru the extent of your feelings yet?" The girl turned red.

"Let's leave me out of this."

"Don't wanna. If you get to rail on me about my love life, I should get to rail on you about yours." Sakura grinned and penned a few things on her chart. "Get out of here, Pig. Go train or teach or heal. Or gather up your courage to go turn that lazy-ass genius you've been in love with into a puddle of goo."

The dull red on her cheeks brightened a little.

"Back at you. Start fighting for your own happiness, and maybe I'll start intensifying mine."

* * *

She only worked one shift. Just one. Her power-walk from the morning going _to_ the hospital had turned into a flat-out _run_ heading home. She opened the door to her apartment and flung herself into the warmth, shedding her coat and boots in record time. The door to the guest room was wide open, and at first she was worried, but when she entered he was lounging properly on the bed, and the soup that had still been on the bedside table was gone. His eyes opened and landed on her when she stepped inside.

"Welcome home, Sakura-san." He really _was_ sweet. She gave him a complicated half-smile.

"Thanks. How are you feeling?" He nodded.

"Much better. I was able to get up earlier." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. He wasn't supposed to be moving yet. Realizing that she didn't like the idea, he quickly made her understand. "Only to heat the soup and relieve myself. I didn't strain."

She was still pouting at him. That half-glare, half-pout that said she was _very_ displeased and that this would be his only warning to not do it again. Sakura moved to his side, chakra flourishing across her hand and slipping beneath his skin again. He really _was_ a lot better, but she wouldn't be satisfied until he was back to one hundred percent.

"Thank you, Sakura-san." She blinked.

"What for?" He was giving that modest smile again, his black-brown eyes gentling.

"For forgiving me." She pouted again.

"You don't know that I've forgiven you. I haven't heard why you were investigating that dignitary, or how you managed to get beaten to a bloody pulp." At least he was back in one piece now. Her mind was more at ease for that.

"… I love you."

Chakra output ceased in her surprise. His face was still gentle, but it was more determined, more earnest than it was before. He was serious.

"Itachi, I-"

"You don't have to answer." She stopped, watching as his eyes were hidden behind long, dark lashes. "You don't have to answer at all. I know. I'm the only one in love. I apologize for the position I've put you in."

He was always apologizing. It was scratching at the back of her heart uncomfortably again. Not the lightning that had squeezed her heart harshly, just a scratching; an insistent feeling that she shouldn't be making him say these things.

Even if it was only to make him lose that look of trusting himself to a deadly fall, she wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be sorry, that it wasn't just him. She _wanted_ to say it; and if it wouldn't have given him the wrong impression, she would've.

Itachi didn't touch her. Not like he had the night before, where he stroked her hair so lovingly. He was simply laying there on the bed, head facing her, eyes closed. She couldn't move, because it didn't feel right. Couldn't say anything, because she didn't know what _should_ be said. But like he must've watched her so often, she just watched him.

Why did things have to be so damn complicated?

She'd fallen in love with her teacher, and she'd had a hell of a time trying to convince him that it was okay to fall in love with her, too. And after trying to corner that blasted commitment-phobic man for two years, he'd finally proposed to her. Then just _died_ on their wedding day. Then she'd gone and gotten drunk off her ass like she never had before, and ended up married to the man that'd pretty much been the root of all hellish evil in her life. Now what? She couldn't say she hated him anymore. Like she'd told Ino, he really _was_ a sweet guy. Meek and unselfish, somewhat easily embarrassed, and very single-minded and devoted. He had murdered his family to protect those who couldn't have defended themselves against the onset of war, but protected his brother because he couldn't let any harm come to that one, ultimately-loved sibling. He had borne, and even encouraged, the hatred of that little brother for ten long years. Now he was in love, and again, he was devoting everything to that love… but after so long, he didn't even expect anything in return. He knew exactly what to expect from the beginning.

The more she thought about it, the more solid that hot barbed wire wrapped around her heart seemed to be. She… she couldn't really say that she didn't care for him anymore.

Actually, she was beginning to feel a little more than just pity and sympathy for him. She felt kinship. She felt… just a bit… the desire to show a slight bit of affection, and comfort him.

It wasn't until much later that she realized he was asleep, and that she had been by his side the whole time.

* * *

"_Are you in love?"_

"_You must've met someone."_

"_You seem worried. Is there a guy you're thinking about?"_

Everyone was commenting. Sakura wanted to scream "AM I SO DAMN OBVIOUS?!" to the whole village, but rather figured it'd be a bad idea. In a fit of annoyance, she snapped her pen, scaring the poor Academy kid that was standing next to his mom. The lady took the hint, and didn't ask any further about her love life.

A love life that might as well have been the cover story for every gossip rag in Konoha, since it was such a hot topic anyway.

_Yes, I am __**the**__ kick-ass kunoichi called Earthquake Haruno. Pleased to meet you. Am I allowed to have a sweetheart? I sure hope so, because otherwise I'll be having to prove a damn __**point **__to everybody that, yeah, I'm a woman and I can sure as hell fall in love._ Not that she _was_ in love, but hey, the gossips were having a field day with an unconfirmed report; what if she actually _did_ fall in love with somebody?

_If I brought him home, Itachi would be… there…_

And the more she thought about it on her rounds that day, the more it bugged her. Because the thought of falling in love with someone seemed impossible as it was, but when she thought about leaving Itachi for that guy that she might fall for, there was a guilty stab at the back of her heart that made her uncomfortable. She couldn't fall in love with anyone. It would mean leaving him.

She dropped the two halves of her snapped pen. That really sounded like she was in love with him.

Sakura denied it so many times in her head that the sentence 'I'm not' ran together into a paragraph-long word.

"Sa-ku-ra~!"

"Yes, Miyu-san." She was going to break something if that woman asked her about her love life.

"Hey, is the guy that you're being rumored with that one I introduced you to? I was right, wasn't I! He's hot, polite, and the perfect type~!"

Sakura slammed her fist on the counter, and a neat little three-centimeter-wide rift ran through it from shelf to floor. The bubble-head paled. An evil grin was stretching across the med-nin's face.

"I am _not_ in love, Miyu-san. And as a matter of fact, the young man you introduced me to has caused me more problems than he's worth." Her words were dripping with venom. If it were a real substance, it would've burned a hole through the hospital tiles and foundation. If the girl had been a little less scared witless, she might've been able to manage a whimper; but all she could do was collapse trembling into a chair when Sakura finally stalked away.

The kunoichi finished her rounds in a royally foul mood, and when she was done she headed straight for Ichiraku. The tenchou cowered as she menacingly asked where Naruto was, and all he could manage was that he was supposed to be at the Hyuuga estate. Her bad vibes were sending people into hiding as she stalked down the street, and it wasn't any better when she arrived at the Hyuuga main house. Neji happened to see her while he was there, and the "Piss off, I hate the world" that was stamped on her forehead was a warning for him to keep his thoughts to himself, no matter what the subject was.

The man she was seeking was currently in the back yard helping Hanabi with the Tajuu Kage Bunshin. Hinata was observing and learning also, but officially he was there "for Hanabi." Sakura's rage calmed the slightest as he clumsily tried to explain the mechanics of his favorite jutsu.

"Naruto." He flinched violently, before turning to look at her.

"Sakura-chan? When did you get here? I totally didn't notice you!"

"You were too busy trying to explain something when you're a lousy teacher. That's why." She smirked. Naruto knew she was teasing, but he still pretended to sulk. "What I need right now is a good sparring partner, so why don't we just let them observe a couple of pros go at it?"

"Bad day?"

"The worst."

Before another word was said- actually, before the two innocent by-standers could get out of the way- they were locked against each other, kunai grinding before they sprung back and circled the area a bit. Hinata hastily moved her little sister to the porch. In a few short minutes, there were craters in the ground and insane amounts of chakra in the air. Half the estate was gathered to see what was going on. Sakura laughed wildly.

In the meanwhile, Naruto was basically getting a beat-down so she could have some stress relief. He jumped out of the way as another chakra-laden kick sped towards his shoulder, but he'd been fooled; she'd made a kage bunshin, and now the real Sakura was landing a punch square on his jaw.

She was feeling better. Their little practice fight fizzled out in a few minutes, both of them panting and sweating, and Sakura was finally smiling like she hadn't in a long time. It felt _good_ to do this. When Hinata cautiously brought her a water bottle, she accepted it gratefully and downed the whole thing before the heiress could even give Naruto his. The blonde was grinning like always, though a little worse for wear. He took one gulp from the bottle, and dumped the rest over his head.

"Alright, now that _that's_ out of your system, care to tell me what's bothering you?" Sakura stretched her legs lightly, before walking over to him, fingers combing the bangs out of her face.

"My romantic exploits seem to be the talk of the town, even though there aren't any. Everyone keeps insisting I've found a man." He examined her in his curiously critical way.

"It's probably because you look better now. You don't have the aura of a grieving widow hanging around you anymore."

She flinched. He was putting it bluntly which was good in general terms, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. She practically _had_ been a grieving widow, and then… well, then the problems with Itachi had arisen. Then she'd had to stress and cry over _him_, and now she was stressing _again_, because he'd gotten himself hurt-

"You look tense, Sakura. Is something wrong?" Hinata's quiet voice cut through that thought.

_Yes, something's wrong. I keep worrying about that blasted Uchiha like… like…_

Sakura sunk to the ground, her head hiding in her knees.

"I'm falling in love with him…"

* * *

She was just dependent on him. She relied on him. He was a measure of sanity. He was the chaotic catalyst that brought her back to a semblance of normalcy.

And as much as Sakura tried to convince herself of that, the more desperate she sounded.

Currently, the lovely Earthquake Haruno had made it her mission to scrub her way through every pot, pan, cup and chopstick in her entire house, whether it was clean or not. Currently, she was steel-wooling the tar out of a frying pan's backside. The black and brown staining wasn't a _problem_, per se, but the physical exertion was taking her mind off of more _troubling_ things. To an extent.

There was only so much thinking that couldn't be done while furiously working a scrub-brush.

Behind her, she could feel Itachi watching her from the doorway. He'd come in for a glass of water a moment ago, and she'd given him one before returning to her self-imposed mission. The kitchen was a mess, with varying types of dishes drying everywhere, and all the ones she hadn't cleaned yet were piled on the counter in tipsy mountains. She plowed through every dish in less than two hours, and then started cleaning out the fridge. Anything within a week of its expiration date went in the trash, and if something was needed, it went on a list. Next was the pantry. Canned goods and packages of ramen that she didn't even realized she _had_ went in a box for donation.

Her spice cabinet, bookshelves and entertainment center were next, in a random sort of order. She vacuumed, scrubbed, sprayed, swabbed, Windex-ed, wiped and polished every surface she could reach, and didn't even bother going to bed. Itachi had surely done most of this already, she knew, but that didn't stop her.

By the time 10 AM rolled around, she hadn't a thing left to clean, unless she wanted to start over. It was, unfortunately, her day off. Unless they called her in, she had absolutely _nothing_ to do. She spun around from where she'd been staring out her window again, and Itachi was quietly sipping tea on her couch.

He'd even fixed her a cup, which would soon be cold if she didn't drink it.

Would it be the end if she fell in love again? Would something irreparable happen if she let herself open up to him? Kakashi was gone… it wasn't wrong to do so. So what was holding her back? She'd thought him an enemy… but she knew now that he wasn't. Tsunade knew about him and, according to him, had been the one to repair his eyes when he'd been almost completely blind. Obviously she was okay with him.

Was she ignoring something important because of the past that she almost shared with him?

Just then, his head lifted, and he looked at her curiously. It was a very veiled look, as they all were, because like his brother, he wasn't the type to show emotion. But as she stared at him, the overwhelming feeling she'd been fighting finally came crashing down on her.

Everything seemed so insignificant at that moment.

She almost wanted to say something. But all she could do was stare at him, lost for words.

* * *

**AN: Tehe. I hope you like it. ^^ I was so happy when I finished this chapter, because I meant I could finally start posting this story! I'm still working on chapter 10 now, so I'm catching up to where I am currently... but don't worry, I won't let writer's block attack me. ^^ This story was actually very easy to keep inspiration for, but sometimes I had to fight to work on it instead of the other challenge piece I'm doing like this. The next one is a DeiSaku- I'll be posting a summary at the end of the story, so keep with me! ^^**

**Enjoy, and please give me feedback! Critique is above and beyond welcome!**

_Flames will be given to Temari so she can continue her glass-making hobby._


	7. Twisted

**7-****Twisted**

Her nightmare was going berserk.

She was dependent on Itachi, she'd already acknowledged that. And she was being quickly overwhelmed by something she knew was even more potent than that. The gut-wrenching feeling that was threatening to make her cry again _told_ her that, on no uncertain terms, she was going to cling to the Uchiha.

She was going to fall in love with him. She didn't want to.

She was dreaming that Uchiha Itachi was a good guy with a low tolerance to alcohol and a meek personality. She was dreaming that he was sweet and kind, and would do his utmost for her. She was dreaming.

He was in love with her. She just _had_ to be dreaming.

* * *

The house was cold in the morning.

There wasn't any music playing, there wasn't a bath made, and the messes were left just as she'd had them the night before. She was in bed in a wrinkled old t-shirt of Naruto's that was somehow still residing in her stuff. The papers on her desk were still waiting to be filed, and the curtains were still closed.

She wandered around the house. No matter how you looked at it, there wasn't a sign of life to be found.

She made a bagel for breakfast, spreading the cream cheese on it thickly, the way she liked. She added the same amount of sugar and creamer to her coffee that she always had. Her life was normal.

See? She _had_ been dreaming.

She looked at the sink. The dishes were clean because of her spree… but they were still there. The coffee pot was empty, because she'd only made enough for one. Her coat was still haphazardly thrown on the counter, and her boots still flopped this and that direction. There wasn't any note wishing her a safe trip on the door.

Nothing ever happened. She'd been dreaming.

Sakura finished her breakfast, and slipped into her boots and winter coat. It was early December, and the wind here made it even colder than it really was. This was the Fire Country; even just above freezing, it felt too cold. She walked to the hospital, passing by the shops as they were opening in the early morning, or some where they were just closing, until they opened again in the evening.

The hospital door slid open silently as always, and the chattering nurses at the desk looked up and gave her a respectful greeting. No, there weren't any emergencies. Yes, it had been a quiet night. No, there weren't any special cases for treatment.

There weren't any of the comments about her love life that she had in her dream. Just as expected.

The hospital was warm inside, but there was a stony feeling in her heart. She just felt… heavy. Even though she was concentrating like normal, she had the feeling that her mind wanted to wander. There was a weight there that begged to be lightened by a little daydreaming, but she wouldn't allow it that foolishness.

Who wanted to daydream about a nightmare?

When her shift was over, it was only just 1 o'clock. Sakura wandered over to Ichiraku, and Ayame served her some miso ramen before she even ordered, though it was exactly what she wanted. It wasn't long until Naruto came by, and Hinata was with him, surprisingly. Sakura had brought along a little something with her as a plan for the two… but somehow, she didn't feel like teasing the heiress about it. Out of her medic apron, she pulled a little bottle, and when the girl was distracted she dumped it in her water.

A few sips later, she was passed out on the counter.

Naruto unglued, and Sakura pretended to do the same, telling him to take her to his house since it was closer and keep an eye on her. He rushed to do that exact thing, and Sakura smiled quietly to herself. It was a sleeping drug mixed with an aphrodisiac. She'd wake up in about 15 minutes, horny as hell. Naruto would be caught in the butterfly's trap, and they'd both be thanking her later.

She wasn't deriving as much satisfaction from this as she normally would, but she tried not to think about that.

The next day was much the same. She went on with life as usual, and yeah, Naruto and Hinata got together just as planned, and the opal-eyed lady was the very personification of the phrase 'glowing with happiness.' Ino was already teasing her about when to plan the wedding.

The next day.

And the next.

Sakura was wandering after her shift, and ended up in the deserted park that she could see from her window seat, and she sat down in one of the swings, staring at the sky. It was grey and overcast, as if it would snow… but it wouldn't. At best, it would be a mix of snow and rain, or maybe just frozen rain that would turn the streets to icy obstacle courses for the civilians and kids.

That face was still stuck in her head. That long, brown-black hair, and the eyes that were so dark they looked as if there wasn't anything to them at all but a void. The long, soft lashes that would sweep down over those eyes. The tiny little quirk of lips that was a smile. The small puff of breath that was a laugh. Skin that had at first been very pale had gotten healthier, and the bags under those mesmerizing eyes had slowly disappeared.

His frustrated face.

His amused face.

His gentle face.

His sleeping face.

His loving face.

She wanted to scream.

Uchiha Itachi was a dream. The man called Uchiha Itachi that she _almost_ loved was _a dream_. She had no reason to be conflicted over it, because it _wasn't real_. Just like Kakashi, he was dead. Killed by Sasuke or some disease or something; but he was definitely no longer in the world of the living.

Even as she shook her head and told herself so, the sensation of his hand on her hair was suddenly making her head feel colder, as if he'd just been petting her like that. She put her hand up to that spot and held it over her hair. It felt warm.

But it didn't feel _right_.

* * *

Even though she had initially cleaned up her apartment, it was back to a disaster area now. The sink was full of dirty dishes that she couldn't be bothered with, and the floor was papered from one side of the room to the other. Her room was a mess of clean and dirty laundry. Her desk was piled up with medical reports.

She was sitting at the window again.

At this time of year, the park was always empty. The children would be playing indoors, where it was warm, since no one in the Fire Country really appreciated cold weather. She hadn't turned up the heater, so it was absolutely _frigid_; but she hadn't bothered to put on a coat, either. She didn't really feel cold.

Just… strangely, strangely empty.

It felt as if he was supposed to be there. It felt as if he was supposed to be taking care of her like she'd dreamed he had. Keeping the apartment toasty, and clean. Cooking her those extravagant breakfasts that he had to concentrate so hard on. Wishing her 'welcome home' when she came back at the end of the day. Tucking her in at night.

The scent of pine and metal and leather that was so familiar… covered by soap and _him_, a scent that was warm and masculine, and deeply comforting. How could she still remember even the exact way he _smelled_?

She buried her head in her hands, doubling over until her forehead touched her knees. This was ridiculous- but even as she thought that, her heart constricted painfully. Not like it was being gripped… but as if wire had been tied around the middle and was trying to spit it in two. Jagged, razor wire that would be painful.

It _was_ painful.

She was starting… to wish it had all been real.

* * *

She went to parties like she always did. Surrounded by bright lights, by friends, by laughter, by pure hilarious insanity. She danced, she flirted, she drank.

And then she went home.

The apartment was cold, it was messy, and above all, it was _empty_. It wasn't just melancholy that settled on her any more. Kakashi was dead. It was reality.

Itachi had never been here to begin with. She had started to feel like this for him… from a _dream_.

She cursed softly, and even though she wished she were angry as hell, all she could do was keep her self from crying. Why did the men she fell for always die? Sasuke, Kakashi… and yeah.

Itachi.

She walked down the hall, carelessly stepping on the papers that were littered everywhere. She stopped at her door… but turned to look just a little ways down the hallway. The door to the spare bedroom was closed, as always. No one had ever used it. Still…

Still… in the dream, it had been _his_ room.

Her bare feet rattled quietly across the papers. But after a couple of steps, there weren't any more. She never came near this door. Callused fingers stroked the brass doorknob, and hesitantly… she gripped it. It turned without a sound, and the door swung open, revealing a stark, untouched room. The white curtains were spotless, the dresser was cleaned off, the bed was made.

But the floor was stained with blood.

It was as if the last four days she had been sleeping. He _had_ been here. It _had_ been real. Every meal, every awkward silence, every embarrassed blush, every stupidly sweet but lovable thing he'd done-!

"Sakura-san?"

She whipped around, and it was as if she'd wished him into existence. The beautiful features, the stature that was tall enough for her to be eye-to-shoulder with him, those brown-black eyes that looked at her with a curious affection. He was real. He had been, from the beginning.

It wasn't a dream.

"… Itachi…?" She must've looked as insecure as she felt, because he looked thrown by it. Sakura reached up hesitantly, and wiped a fleck of blood from his face. "Where…?"

"I was avenging you." He gave a complicated half-smile at her surprise. "That foreign dignitary was known for hiring odd and powerful bodyguards, and pardoning their crimes as long as they worked for him. Last time, one thought I was too curious for a simple hangyoku, so he beat me. But they were the ones… who killed Kakashi-san. So I returned the favor."

Her heart couldn't decide whether to speed up, or stop beating altogether. After a few moments… she simply snapped.

"_I thought you hadn't existed! I was scared out of my mind that I'd had a dream!_"

He startled, and backed to the other side of the hall. The stress was like a ball of rubber bands inside Sakura, and now, each one of them was snapping and flinging off in its own direction. It was haphazard, it was sudden, and it was complete.

"Damn it, I thought all this time that I'd been dreaming that you were here! I thought I was going insane for remembering a dream so vividly! I stress and I freak, and then I try and act normal, and the more normal I act the less normal I feel, because you screwed it to where up is down and in is out! You turned my life into a chaotic mess, and then you think you can waltz out without even saying goodbye?!" She took a breath, steadying herself. It didn't do any good. When she finally looked up at him, the first tear started to slide down her cheek. "What good would revenge do me, Itachi? Sure, the guys who killed Kakashi are dead, but what if _you_ had died?"

He hesitated. "I am superior to those loose canons, Sakura-san."

"So what if you are? What if I had lost you? The possibility isn't zero, Itachi." She moved forward and fisted her hands in the travelling cloak he was wearing. The tears weren't stopping, and at the moment she didn't care if they did or not. "I thought I had dreamed everything about you. I thought I was _losing my mind_ over a _dream_. I can't even imagine what would've happened to me if you hadn't come back, and I don't want to. Damn you for turning me into a dependent! This is exactly what I grew strong to _avoid_, and you're turning me this way anyway!"

And when exactly it happened, she wasn't sure. Who started it wasn't exactly for sure, either. But they were kissing. His hands were cautiously at her waist, but she was stroking her fingers through his hair, letting them get caught in the tangles and not bothering to pull them out. His lips were a little chapped, but she didn't care. She knew that he was being careful of her, _for_ her, but she didn't want him to be. She simply wanted him, whatever way he would give himself to her.

This time, she knew that she started it.

She dropped his cloak from his shoulders, and just let it pool around their feet. Her hitai-ate was next, and then her shirt. He seemed to be withdrawing, as if he was afraid, but she wouldn't let him. Her medical apron hit the floor.

When she pulled his shirt over his head, he looked overwhelmed. Served him right. She'd been feeling the same way for almost a week now.

She didn't pull him towards his room, but hers. The golden coverlet felt cold against her fingers when she pushed him down, but it only made the heat more acute. His ghosting fingers, and hers that might have left bruises, were different, opposites, but completely harmonious. She needed him.

She _needed_ him.

He wasn't a possession. He wasn't a leech, or a servant, or a demon bent on spiriting away his promised bride. He wasn't anything but a man. And she needed him.

It was her first time. She'd been saving herself for Sasuke, and then fell in love with the reserved Kakashi, and she had never given herself to a man. She encouraged Itachi to take the lead, and when he did… surrender was so easy. He was gentle, and eventually, he was firm. His kisses began to stray, and she let them. Beneath her touch, his skin turned feverishly hot. Where his hands passed, needles of delicious electricity shot across her skin, raking it with pain, with pleasure. She should have called him by his name, but she was cursing him.

And for every curse, she kissed him. She hoped he knew she didn't mean it. That night, she murmured only one thing to him before drawing him under the covers to sleep.

"_Bastard. I'm already twisted around your little finger._"

* * *

**AN: ... Yes, I'm sorry it took so long. I was going to wait until I finished writing the next chapter to post, but I haven't finished writing it yet, and it's been a month since I last updated. So I used up a cushion chapter. ^^; I could NOT wait to write this when I was working on this story, because _Twisted_ was my absolute _favorite_ song. XD At any rate, I hope you liked the chapter! I'll try and complete chapter 10 today, so maybe you'll get to see another update this week! Isn't it hard to believe that the story is over halfway through now? XP**

**Have a good one! R&R PEEPS~!**


	8. I Told You So

**8~ ****I ****Told**** You**** So**

"You got laid, didn't you."

Sakura nearly choked on her tea. Ino's flat statement had stunned her to say the least. Yeah, she'd gotten laid. Every night for a week. By the smokin' hot Uchiha the Elder, no less.

Not that she was actually about to _admit_ that.

"Is that a crime?"

"Since you haven't told me yet? Yeah, it is." The medic's expression soured.

"Go play with your own huggable." The blonde turned neatly pink to match her friend's hair. "Yes, I got laid. Yes, he's unbelievably sexy and he totally knows what he's doing. No, he doesn't have any weird quirks before, during or after. Satisfied?"

"Not really, but I have a feeling you don't want to tell me any more than that." Ino was unconsciously pouting as she stirred her tea. "You won't even tell me his name. Does Naruto even know? Hell, does _Tsunade-sama_?"

_Shishou yes, Naruto no._ "Shishou knows, but I haven't told Naruto yet."

A dirty look crossed her face. "So secretive, all of the sudden. Is there something we should know?"

Sakura didn't say anything. Yes, they should know. They really, really _needed_ to know. Ino was no stranger to the problems of the Uchiha clan, and even worse, Naruto was hardly removed from Akatsuki, though the group had been destroyed for well over a year already. The guy she was sleeping with was once a mortal enemy.

There's no way that, if it got around, there wouldn't be a huge outcry.

Ino sighed, and sipped the hot drink. She knew better than to press Sakura for answers when she was acting like this. Something was troubling her, and apparently it had to be dealt with on her own. The girl was obviously lovesick, but something about her partner made her unwilling to reveal his identity.

The mind-walker hoped she decided to tell her soon. The curiosity was killing her.

* * *

Like before, he was still cautious. He would touch her gently, and when sure that his affection was welcomed, would get closer. First it was a brush of fingers across her hair, and then a press of lips to her temple. She was sitting on her couch and supposedly reading a medical report, but she hadn't flipped a page in half an hour, and there was no way he hadn't noticed.

"Sakura-san?" There was a silent breath out, and she turned to look up at him with a quiet smile. "Is something troubling you?"

"There's always something to trouble me, Itachi. You're the one who makes it less troubling." He felt an edge of deception, but let it go. He didn't know her reasons why, and forcing her was still hardly his place.

Not when he wasn't sure of her feelings yet.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Do we have anything good?" She was about to toss the report over her shoulder, interest far from it as it was, but he caught the file before it dropped, and proceeded to lay it carefully on the extra desk that was taking up one of the walls. "I want leaves, not bags right now…"

"I was able to procure some Jasmine tea while I was out." She nodded.

"That sounds perfect."

Itachi moved to the kitchen, where he took out the only real tea set she had, and proceeded to boil the water needed. When he looked at her over his shoulder, she was still staring into space with a worried look. She remained that way the whole while, even when he came back with her cup; she accepted it and turned back into her thoughts. Occasionally she would drink, but her jade eyes remained trained on an indefinite spot on the floor, her brow knit in varying degrees of aggravation, frustration and concern.

He was sure, after a while, that he was the one troubling her from the beginning.

* * *

Finding the resolve to tell them was proving difficult.

Sakura mulled over the paperwork on her desk, forcing all her concentrating powers in the direction they were _supposed_ to be going. The fact that her best friends didn't have a clue in the world that she was married to a once-mortal enemy was _not_ the priority worry at the moment.

She sighed, forehead meeting her desk in a hollow _bonk_. Who was she kidding?

Ino knew something was up. She was waiting patiently, because she sensed well enough that this was _one_ issue that couldn't be forced. Naruto was drowning in love at the moment, since the Hyuuga heiress was spoiling him rotten with affection, but he wasn't oblivious either. He just knew that if he asked, he might say something wrong and incur her wrath. And yeah, that was a definite possibility. But _telling_ them…

"I'm married to Uchiha Itachi…"

The uneasy, sick sensation in her stomach got worse. Thinking about their faces if she said that… it made her so torn and uneasy that she couldn't handle it. They needed to know.

She didn't want them to know.

"Oh, please forgive me…"

* * *

They were standing over Kakashi's grave. That was how she'd called them out. Naruto and Ino stood behind her, sending up their own prayers in silence.

_Kakashi… I'm sorry. I've already found someone again. I can't imagine that I'll ever love him like I loved you, but… he's here. He loves me, or so he says. Uchiha Itachi… he wasn't a bad guy, but I couldn't seem to accept that. I've seen him now, though. I know him. I watch all of his expressions and decode them, just like I used to with you, and with Sasuke. He blushes so easily, you know. It's really cute. He's meek, but holds himself strongly. He hesitates to touch me, because he's probably scared to want anything for himself. He wanted Sasuke to stay alive, and that was the last selfish desire he acted on. It became a disaster. I can feel him twisting me around his finger, but I already have __**him**__ twisted inside out._

_I loved you, Kakashi. I still do. But…_

She raised her head, and traced the kanji of his name with her eyes. "Hatake Kakashi, Jounin. The Infamous Copy Ninja."

She recited his registration number, birthday, blood type, star-sign, likes and dislikes, and his best and worst traits. Behind her, Naruto and Ino were listening, quietly and carefully. Sakura didn't turn around. She wouldn't face them when she confessed, because their expressions… held every possibility of breaking her.

"I'm married." She heard the light intake of breath from them both.

"… To who?" Ino's whisper was teeming with confounded shock. Sakura hesitated again. Her resolve was wavering, because once she told them _who_… once they _knew_… things would just change- irrevocably, and probably negatively. She swallowed, willing her lungs not to shake.

She had to tell them. She didn't want to but… she _had_ to.

"… Uchiha Itachi." Their dead silence was overwhelming, but she continued. "Remember that mission, a few months ago, where I had to escort that merchant from Tea's southern port to the Naruto Bridge? The client was two days late, and I'd been drinking the whole time. I was knocking back whole bottles of whiskey. I didn't know who he was, because I was starting to get buzzed and didn't look at him… but things happened. He got drunk, too, and he took us to a local chapel. It happened in one night, just like that. I took off out of the hotel room the next morning without ever seeing his face."

The silence still reigned. It was burning her back with shame, with fury. She hoped with anything but hatred.

"He came here for me. Tsunade-shishou knows; she healed his eyes. He was almost completely blind at the time, but now he's okay. Tsunade-shishou is fine with this." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. Whether it was working or not, she didn't know. But the sound of her voice wavering and cracking was hideous. A shadow behind a tree went unnoticed. "He's been staying with me. Taking care of me. He avenged Kakashi's death for me."

"Sakura-chan-"

"I slept with him…"

Her words were even quieter this time, and whatever Naruto had been about to say was stopped right there. The nausea was churning in her stomach again. She was trying her best to tell them straight, because sugaring it over would probably have made it worse.

But she was scared.

She was _terrified_.

She spun on her feet, still kneeling just as they were. The looks there were so conflicted that she couldn't even begin to judge where she stood. Hate? Revulsion? Mistrust? She couldn't tell, and it made it even more overwhelmingly frightening.

"Please… _please_ forgive me. You're my _best friends_. You have to understand!" Give them up? Give up Itachi? Neither seemed like an option. Neither _was_ an option, because to give up either would tear her apart. "I love you, both of you! But Itachi…"

… _is special. I need him. And he needs me, too._

"Sakura… Tsunade-sama was fine with this?" Ino asked cautiously. Most of those that had been concerned with the Akatsuki and Naruto had been informed by now, but just like Sakura… just like her, the grudge wouldn't disappear that easily. The monster they'd always thought him to be had never really existed. Asking someone to wrap his or her mind around that was too hard. It was too much. "You _know_ that even if it's not what he's really like… he still _did_ those things. He _killed_ Gaara. He _tried_ to kill Naruto."

That very Jinchuuriki was sitting next to them, a pained look on his face. There weren't even words to describe it. Just so painful… as if he were about to cry for the first time in years. He lifted those truest-blue eyes to look at her.

"Do you love him?"

That was all he said. She could tell he was warring within himself. Warring… with a past that couldn't be easily expunged. _Her_ past with Itachi hadn't been easy to get past either, but Naruto… felt it all firsthand. He wasn't feeling it as the one who cared for someone else. Because of Sasuke's tortured thirst for vengeance, he'd had to kill him. Gaara, not only just the Kazekage, but also the only other one that could truly understand where he was coming from as a Jinchuuriki, had been killed. Because his _father_ had sealed the Kyuubi in him, making him a hero of sorts… he himself was nearly killed. Itachi was a root of evil, and a root that had once supported a much larger tree of that evil. He was a threat. He was dangerous.

But Sakura meant just as much to him; she was every bit as precious as he was heinous.

The kunoichi couldn't answer him. She didn't know how. She pulled him into a hug, burying her nose in his hair like she might've done to a little brother, if she'd had one. He always smelled like water and sunshine, over all the scent of sweat, wood and metal. He was warm. He was this close, and she wanted his heart to stay as close to hers as this, always.

But she couldn't answer him.

* * *

Behind the tree, Itachi's hand clenched at his clothes, above his heart.

He hadn't heard what the Jinchuuriki said, but he knew that Sakura hadn't answered. She was drawing him closer, pulling him in as if promising something.

The pain was unbearable.

He escaped the site, shooting across the village. He _had_ been what was troubling her. Sakura had been plagued by guilt because she hadn't told her friends. The burning around his heart was eating away at him. He slipped into an old archive tower, and settled in to hide amongst the dusty books and scrolls. Like he always had. Like he probably always would.

There was no way she would choose him over them. There was no way she would choose him, a former enemy turned lover, over her best friends. Over her village. Over her current _life_.

It was just that simple.

If he hadn't cried all his tears long ago, he was sure he would've cried then. The exhaustion that was supposed to come afterward settled over his shoulders anyway, a heavy weight that made his eyes itchy and heavy, and his whole body feel like lead.

_She would never love me._

And he slipped into dream. A single tear slid unnoticed down his face, and dried there as he slept.

* * *

**AN: I AM FINALLY UPDATING! There was someone (my apologies for forgetting who you are, I was sure I saved your message) who said she hoped this story didn't get left undone like it's inspiration "Last Name," and I promised her it wouldn't. Here's the next chapter! I actually can't believe I'd only posted up through _Twisted_... I have up through chapter 10 finished, though. ^^ Hopefully, I'll finish Carnival Ride very soon. My apologies to all those I've kept waiting! I know what a pain it is to wait for a story to update, and I regret taking so long. *cries***

**Enjoy~! Please Review!**

_Next Time:** You Won't Find This**_**  
**


	9. You Won't Find This

**9****~ You ****Won't ****Find**** This**

"Sakura-chan… be careful, okay?"

He had walked her home. Ino went to go make Shikamaru behave as a proper boyfriend by comforting her, though she'd promised she wouldn't tell him- or anyone- about the Uchiha. Her hand was clasped in his softly; his right hand, which was rough and pitted oddly in a few places from the Rasengan. His thumb brushed over hers lightly.

"Don't worry. If… if you come to see him, you'll understand. He may be deadly… but he isn't dangerous."

She smiled and slipped her hand from his grasp, moving lightly up the metal stairs to her back door. The knob turned silently as she let herself in, and she turned back to look at her best friend one last time. The pain was still there, on his face, but there wasn't betrayal. He couldn't think of her that way. The woman smiled gently, and slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

The apartment was empty.

Like he'd done in the beginning, the place was flawlessly clean, but she was absolutely certain that he was no-where inside her residence. The CD player wasn't playing that gentle, classical music. The heater, though still keeping the apartment warm, wasn't up nearly as high as he kept it when they were home. The presence that indicated 'Itachi,' was now something she was so sensitive to… that she felt it instinctively. Sakura would admit- she was a little disappointed. Though Naruto and Ino hadn't outright _accepted_ him… they hadn't rejected him either. In fact, it looked as though Ino would go and get drunk off her ass and come over with a hangover the next morning to interrogate him relentlessly. That was a _good_ thing.

Naruto wouldn't be much different, though he would stay sober and brood all night instead.

Glancing at the clock, the medic decided that she would shower and go to bed early. When she woke up, she was certain she would see Itachi.

* * *

The morning came, and he still wasn't back. Sakura frowned at the empty, untouched side of the bed. Maybe Tsunade had given him a mission? In a twisted sort of sense, he was still a Konoha shinobi.

Sakura slipped from the bed and opened the curtains. It was Christmas Eve, come to think of it; the city had been decorated with garlands and holly and mistletoe (which was unfortunate in some situations and hilarious in others, since apparently the crew had cast jutsu on them to where the couple involved _had _to kiss on order to escape the doorway). It'd been this way… for over a month, really…

And she was only just now noticing.

A lurching in her belly sent Sakura careening towards the bathroom. Her stomach was empty, but it insisted on getting rid of what already _wasn't_ there. She stared down into the toilet, noting grimly that though the contents were vaguely ramen-reminiscent, the majority was nothing but stomach fluid. That wasn't a good thing. She put the seat down and flushed the bowl, settling back with a hand on her stomach to do a brief exam of herself.

Virus? No. Injury? No. There weren't any abnormalities with her stomach, or her lungs, or most anything other of her internal organs. She spread her chakra wider, for a more generalized check, and frowned when something was off. She was supposed to be starting her period soon, she knew… But there weren't any indications of it at all. She probed around her lower abdomen carefully, checking herself.

And then she checked again.

And again.

And again.

Because… this just… couldn't possibly be right.

She swallowed and withdrew her chakra, not even bothering to ease her nausea as she did. Now she felt sick for more reasons than one.

The medic just sat there for a while, before mechanically continuing her day. Work, shopping, coming home. Itachi still wasn't back, and the burning around her heart combined with her stressed stomach; she lost her lunch to the kitchen sink.

She put the groceries away. It was only 8 'o clock… but she went to bed, and stared blankly out the window at the starry night until she fell into a light, uneasy sleep.

* * *

Her eyes popped open.

The bedside lamp on the other side was on, and from the glow behind her she could see the digital readout of her alarm clock- 11:47. She flipped over, knowing before she even moved that he was there. Itachi was hovering over the nightstand, a pen in his hand. He had apparently been writing something, but had stopped when he noticed her waking. She blinked at him owlishly, totally awake, and yet physically tired to the point of not bothering to move.

"Welcome home." She whispered it quietly, not sure why he was sneaking around, or disappearing, or writing a note. If something was wrong, she wasn't about to get him caught by pursuers. To her surprise, his eyes turned away.

He wasn't looking at her. Her eyes sharpened on him, and she raised up on one elbow carefully.

"Itachi? What's wrong?" There was a hesitation. She didn't know what to make of it. "Are you okay?"

"… I'll be leaving now." She hesitated. He moved away from her bed quietly, and stood facing the door. "I have caused you more trouble than I should have ever dared to. I apologize. Deeply."

"Wait a sec, what are you saying? What do you mean, you're leaving?" The nausea stirring in her stomach was getting worse. She ignored it and started getting up, but by the time she slipped her feet onto the floor, he was behind her, whispering softly in her ear.

"I give my deepest, deepest apologies for hurting you. I had not intended to make you chose between your friends and myself. They mean too much to you for me to interfere."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" He hit the back of her neck, to knock her out. Her thoughts flittered…

To Sasuke…

He was laying her on the bed so, so gently, but in a burst of anger, Sakura channeled her chakra and counteracted his gentle assault. Adrenaline brought her fully awake in a matter of moments, and before he'd really registered that she was moving, he was pinned to the mattress. He could move her if he wanted to. He could've thrown her, knocked her out again. There was no reason for him to discontinue his escape, even now. But he stared up at her beautiful face, and braced himself against the distress she was showing him.

"What the _hell_ are you thinking, bastard?" Her words hissed, a low, seething anger clear in her voice. "Putting yourself against my friends? Are you _still_ unfriendly to them?"

"No. But they will not accept me." She growled at his practical tone.

"What do _you_ know? Were you listening in on us or something?" His ebony eyes met hers straight on, and they were tragically, beautifully haunted in a way that made him so fragile it was ironic.

"I was. At the gravesite of your love." She scowled.

"You don't know them. Their words are hardly everything."

"Then will they accept me?" Perfectly green eyes stared at him. They examined him, and seemed to judge, yet forgive.

"Even if they didn't, I wouldn't let you go. You can't just walk away from me, you and I both know it." Even if his heart was burning with pain, it was swelling with love. She was saying something she didn't really understand, he was sure. "They'll probably come to see you soon. I know; I can tell. Probably not in the morning, but morning after tomorrow. They expect to see you, and judge you based on what _I_ see. Ino will be hung over and pissed as hell, and Naruto will be broody, moody and arrogant like some older brother figure, when actually he's younger than me. It'll be a pain in the ass, and they'll make themselves difficult, but if you're even a tenth the way you are with me to them, they'll accept you. They'll understand why I need you and rely on you so damned much, and they'll let it go. It may not be approval, but they won't interfere, and they won't scowl every time your name comes up in conversation.

"Even if you left now, it wouldn't be enough. We're already so mixed up and insane about each other that we'd never find anything else like this. You'd try and move on eventually, but you would always, _always_ compare the next one to me, and I'm sure as hell to do the same. It would never be the same. Never good enough. You will never, as long as you live, Uchiha… you'll never find this with anyone else. Even if it's difficult. Even if it's insane, illogical, out of control, and totally unbalanced. You'll never love like this again."

_And neither… will I._ She didn't say it. She couldn't. Not yet.

"I will… take that chance." She looked at him in shock, and found that sincerity mixed with hurt was there, indicated by nothing but the shadows on his already dark eyes, and the slight tilt of his eyebrows.

He dislodged his arms from her grip, and wrapped them around her carefully, pulling her in and turning them over. Now pressed into the covers, he looked at her carefully. How her sweet, pink hair splayed across the sage green of her satin pillowcase, how her pale skin glowed with life in the warmth of the lamp. How she looked so perfectly angelic, surrounded by greens and golds, with that shocked, near-tears face.

"I will have to take the chance, for you. You are right; I will never meet another woman like you. One so stubbornly loyal, so quickly forgiving, so frighteningly temperamental, so ridiculously strong in mind and body. Never will I meet someone who makes me feel like a child again, or who gives me the desire to throw away all for the sake of her slightest whim." He let a bitter smile slide onto his face, and the pain outgrew the shock exponentially on her features. "I am a stubborn man also, Sakura. You should know that."

"You can't… You can't leave…" Her speech was hesitating, but he knew that she was just clinging. Only clinging, because he had been kind to her above and beyond, when she had been at her lowest. He had avenged her of his own will, shown open affection that she had never received, and the fear of losing that was outweighing her common sense. "You're the one who doesn't get it, Itachi, you just _can't go_."

She was becoming firmer in that conviction, and he leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"You will definitely find someone better than me. I promise."

In a bare moment, he was at her bedroom door. Sakura couldn't move. She felt sick. She felt like if she moved it would make her lose what little food she'd had that day.

"Itachi, you can't leave me like this." He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

"You will definitely forget me."

"I will _never_ be able to forget you. You will always be with me, even if you leave, you bastard. You're going to leave me to take care of this by myself?" He felt the bitter smile tweaking his lips.

"Take care of what, Sakura?"

"Of me… and our kid."

* * *

**AN: This... has got to be the fastest update I've pulled out of my hat in a while. Seriously. And the only reason I waited as long as I did is because I thought maybe more people would review, given the opportunity. Ah, well. I can't blame a few of you for giving up after I promise quick updates and then disappear for five or six months. But I'm back now! And chapter 11 is almost done~ I finally managed to get it to move! It's a miracle! And thus, I will hopefully become a more creative person in the near future.**

_Next: All-American Girl_**  
**


	10. All American Girl

**10****~ All-American ****Girl**

"Are you… sure?" Sakura glanced at the clock. 12:01.

"Merry Christmas, darling. Anything else I can do for you?" She said it sarcastically. Yeah, she was sure.

She wasn't aware of his approach, but when his hand settled on her stomach, she turned back to look at him. There were hints of anger and betrayal in her eyes that tore him apart, but the worry and need were significantly more potent.

She was pregnant.

She was bearing _his child_.

He stared into her eyes for just ages, until she pulled him into the bed with her. The lamp was ignored, but Sakura watched as Itachi stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night. Around dawn, he finally slipped into a fitful sleep.

There was a baby inside of her. It was his, no two ways about it. He was totally shell-shocked by the idea of having a child, she could tell.

Sasuke was the one who was supposed to "revive the clan," not him.

The ironic smile that passed over her features was lost on the sleeping young man beside her. Without her notice, she followed him to dream.

* * *

If she hadn't been awakened by the morning sickness first, she would've been by the insanely loud knocking and complaining outside her front door. Just as expected, Ino and Naruto were standing on her stoop in the exact conditions she'd predicted. Ino's eyes were bloodshot and her clothes had apparently been slept in. Just the opposite, it looked like Naruto hadn't slept at all.

She'd slept a whole day, but she was sure that she looked just as ragged.

"Well, the day after Christmas, just as expected. Ready to meet the family?" her sardonic tone was a testament to her foul wake-up call. No one had noticed, but Itachi had come in behind her. Hooking an arm carefully around her ribcage, he lifted her away from the door and pulled it open politely. "Ah, and this would be my aforementioned husband! So I'm unofficially-officially an Uchiha. Heh, and here I thought it'd be Sasuke bestowing the honor, right?"

"Sakura-chan?"

"Gimme a minute. I think I have to go barf again."

She took off down the hallway, and sure enough the sounds of gagging could be heard a few seconds later. Ino turned suspicious, reddened eyes on the Uchiha.

"She isn't…?" He nodded softly. "… Uchiha, you'd better be a damned good husband, or I'm going to kill you."

"That has been acknowledged." He shut the door quietly behind them, and invited them to the kitchen; he gently adjusted the tablecloth on the dinette, and as the two were about to sit, he politely pulled out the chair for the blond mind-walker. What she thought of that didn't show on her face.

They observed him quietly, and he continued what he'd been doing. Yesterday he had cleaned again, what little mess had exploded the two days he'd been gone, struggling with his decision to leave.

A decision that, in the end, had been shot to hell anyway.

He carefully mixed the batter for pancakes, and threw in a few spices he knew were supposed to assist with an upset stomach. Started coffee, sliced fruit, fried sausage. He was trying to be so very, very careful of all of it, and seem professional at the same time. He heard when Sakura made her way back into the kitchen, but instead of going to sit down at the table, she came up behind him on tiptoe to spy on his cooking again.

"No snitching, Sakura-san."

"Miser." He couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. They'd had this conversation before. It felt familiar and comfortable. Her body heat was warming his back, making it even hotter than the already cuddly-warm house. She seemed to like waking up to these warm quarters, with the little bit of music playing in the background.

He had only crossed his fingers and hoped that she would. At least he'd been right.

When he began serving the food, he didn't bother to look at the faces of their guests. He was sure he would know their opinions soon enough.

Ino eyed the food critically.

"_He says he isn't the greatest cook- and yeah, he still burns things-, but he really goes all out to try and please me. My house is so clean it doesn't even look like the same place."_

She had not only been examining Itachi, but also the apartment; Sakura hadn't been exaggerating. The place was absolutely spotless. The woman hadn't said anything when he threw the extra spices in the pancake batter he was using, but she knew he was looking to help Sakura when he did it. When he served her, he brought water, orange juice, milk _and_ coffee; he was probably thinking of her hangover. Instead of water, he brought Naruto a fragrant tea of some sort- probably to relieve stress. His footsteps were near silent, but rhythmic as he crossed the kitchen over and over again, bringing so much stuff that she was beginning to wonder if the table could hold it all.

"Itachi, the food's gonna get cold." Sakura said teasingly from the chair she'd taken at the table. He stilled, and then simply _appeared_ in the seat next to her. That simple sentence from Sakura… and he immediately, without question, obeyed.

Okay. So he'd earned a few brownie points. She wasn't going to deny him what he was earning.

Her friend had been right- though the sausage had gotten a little burnt, and he was a little excessive in his service, he actually _could_ cook when he tried. She tried a bite of the hotcakes, and noted that, even without syrup, and just a little bit of butter, it was absolutely delicious. The spices, though they'd only been meant to help with her best friend's upset stomach, were aromatic and soothing to her hangover, as well.

Naruto seemed to be agreeing with her.

When she cast a glance at the two she'd come to inspect, they weren't touching. There wasn't any lovey-dovey flirting, either. None of the saccharinely-sweet antics of newlyweds. Itachi was very attentive to her needs; and Sakura accepted all his attentiveness with a bit of kindness that seemed almost _unresponsive_ in comparison. Thinking like that…

Wasn't Itachi the one at a disadvantage here?

It occurred to Ino exactly what Sakura had said- Itachi was the one in love with _her_. She'd never said anything about returning those feelings- though it was obvious she felt a definite affection for him. The blond observed quietly as she ate. This wasn't what she'd expected… well, she hadn't known _what_ to expect, but it wasn't this. She glanced at Naruto across the table.

He was watching them with an expression that said he knew what he was seeing… but wasn't ready to believe it just yet.

* * *

"Why do you love her?"

They were sitting in the living room. Sakura was at the window seat, watching with a bit of amusement as Ino and Naruto grilled her 'husband.' Itachi was taking it well, of course… but naturally, there was something to be nervous about.

She wouldn't have forgiven him if he wasn't nervous.

"I can't name it so simply, Ino-san."

"Then what do you love most about Sakura-chan?" He smirked, and the reaction made Sakura smirk too, just because it was going to frustrate her friends.

"Her smile."

"… Oh, MY GOSH, cheesy much?"

"Indeed."

"Answer us straight, bastard!"

"I love her honesty and fighting spirit. Her intelligence, her battle style, her forgiving heart. There are many things to love about Sakura-san; why should I have to chose what I love most? Her bad traits can be nearly as endearing as her good ones."

Okay, Ino had to admit. That was sweet. She glanced at her best friend sitting by the window, and noted that she was _attempting _to stop grinning, at the same time that a blush was turning her a wonderful shade of red.

… This was actually kind of fun.

"How'd you manage to get her to let you stay?" He face-faulted, and almost, _almost_ pouted.

"She fell sick, and didn't have the energy to oppose me."

"And afterwards, he was just too mysterious, and I had to know more about him. So I didn't kick him out." The Cheshire cat grin on Sakura's face was back. Ino was beginning to wonder how all these events fit together.

What a weird story. If she ever met the author, she'd question their sanity.

"You're going to take responsibility for the baby, right?" All joking aside, that was an important question. Itachi and Sakura both sobered, and their gazes met. Sakura wanted to know the answer to that question just as much as they did. Itachi had stayed because he was surprised… but would he take off again? Would he try to leave… her… again? His deep brown-black eyes never left hers.

"I will, if Sakura-san will allow me."

* * *

Sakura entered the Hokage's office quietly, and noticed that Tsunade was, for once, mostly sober and doing her job properly. Even if there _was_ a scowl on her face. But when her apprentice made her presence known, the woman looked up at her critically.

"Well? I haven't heard from you since this mess started; has he changed your mind?"

"I don't know. But I'm pregnant." She didn't face-fault.

"I'd say that, if not changed, it's at least considerably _improved_ then." The younger woman mirrored the ironic smile on her face. "Well? Will you keep the child?"

"Obviously. There's no way I could give him up." The ironic smile became a teasing smirk.

"Are you sure it's a 'he'?" Sakura shook her head.

"But a boy is what he wants, I'm sure."

"How far along are you?"

"About two weeks, I believe."

The silence in the room was oppressive. But her teacher wasn't angry; she examined her student with a curious eye. There wasn't any criticism there; she didn't disapprove. Tsunade had probably known Itachi before he became a missing-nin, and had trusted him from the moment she found out Jiraiya had, also. What was going to be said next? Was… there anything _to_ say?

Not knowing what to do, Sakura started cleaning a pile of paper off the edge of her teacher's desk, organizing, flipping, shuffling, signing, and trashing as she went. There were probably _many_ things running around in her shishou's (likely muddled) head, so it was best to make time with the paperwork while she decided what to start with.

"Do you love him?"

Sakura paused.

That man who cleaned like a maniac, clung to her almost like a child, was so desperate to please? The man who had made her life hell, and then she found out he was going through hell with her? And after this… things would probably get even worse…

Konoha wasn't the only place they could meet demons. Was she really willing to walk through that with him? Was she willing to stand by his side?

Did she _really and truly _love him?

"… I don't know."

_Yet._

_

* * *

_

The chill of winter had almost worn off completely; the cold March winds were getting less frequent, and the spring days were getting more sunshine-y and warm.

Sakura dried herself and pulled her clothes on, ruffling her hair with the bath towel one last time for good measure. As always, things were still crosswire, haywire, and short circuited; Naruto came by almost every day (at first it had been every few hours, so she could at least call it an improvement), and Ino teased her relentlessly about her lover. Itachi was beginning to watch her like a hawk, because she was starting to show. The fact that he was able to _see_ her showing… well, she supposed it made things feel more _real_ than when she'd simply _told_ him. As careful and considerate as he was before, it felt like he was doing twice that now.

She didn't even know that a _twice that_ had _existed_, but apparently it did.

While one hand filled out another ream of medical forms, the other stroked absently at her stomach. The thought of being a mother was constantly occupying the back of her mind, even as she worked.

It was a little funny that Itachi had already forbidden her from training. He would've forbidden her from leaving the house, if it wouldn't have meant that he would be the sole provider in a place that essentially didn't know he was there. She laughed softly at the thought of his conflicted face; it was as close to a pout as he ever got, and it was absolutely adorable.

He would be a good father. A little awkward, a little prone to spoil… but he would be a very good father. She was absolutely sure.

The quiet shift inside her stomach made a sudden thrill go through her heart. She couldn't wait to meet the little one growing inside.

"Sakura!" Shizune stuck her head through the door, and then smiled gently. "I see you're enjoying some 'together time.' Tsunade-sama asked you to come to the maternity ward and get a physical. Of course, you'll be 'helping out,' as well."

In other words, she would be officially 'going to help,' and would instead be forced into a medical room for an afternoon-long exam.

Today, they would take a good, long look around inside.

Shizune would be handling the procedure, so there was nothing to worry about; they probably wouldn't even use an assistant, unless they called in Ino off-shift. Sakura smiled and cleaned off her desk, following her senior out the door and down the many changing halls.

* * *

She was strangely skittish.

Up until this morning, she'd been absolutely fine. _Completely_ fine, and more energetic than he wanted her to be. At this point in time, almost out of her first trimester, he really, _really_ wished that she were more careful, more relaxed, _something_.

Skittish, however, was not on the list of things she needed to be.

He didn't like that she was avoiding him. He didn't like that she jumped every time he mentioned the baby now. Most of all, he didn't like how her stress would adversely affect the baby, because right now (his feelings aside) that was what stood most important.

Itachi stood beside the window of the room, a low-level genjutsu disguising him as his former alias, the mild-mannered and average-looking young medical ninja from Grass. Miyu had probably spread the tale that he was Sakura's lover anyway, so the guise wouldn't go unappreciated or confirmed. The shower that was adjoined to the master bedroom was filled with the sounds of bathing as Sakura washed away the sweat and grime (and maybe a bit of blood) from her day at the hospital.

Admittedly, he'd only seen _one_ fleck of blood underneath her third finger, right hand… but he didn't like the idea of her working on bodies… alive or dead… when she was expecting. He didn't. Not a bit.

He would admit he was probably being overprotective. That was certainly the signal he was receiving from Sakura. In the background, he could hear the shower fixture squeak as his wife turned off the water. She would be out soon, and he could ask her, right? She… wouldn't avoid the question, would she?

What was _wrong_?

Had something happened to the baby? Did something happen at work? Maybe Naruto had gone and talked to her about their relationship. Did he convince her that she didn't want to be with him after all? That she didn't want to have the baby?

_Their_ baby?

There was a gripping on his heart so tight and painful he felt at loss for air. On the spur of the moment, he flung open the windows, and leaned out, breathing deeply. It didn't really help.

She might not want him. Them. Would he have to convince her that, even if she… didn't want to stay with him… would he have to convince her to have the baby and give it to him anyway? Their precious child… would it be their only? The sense of terror creeping in around the edges of his mind was making him feel sick. He stared at the ground from their second-storey window, and it was spinning even though nothing was moving.

"Itachi!"

His name was said, nearly yelled, and accompanied by a pair of strong hands latching onto his shoulders and hauling him away from the window. In the flurry of movement, he heard the windows clack shut, the blinds drop and the curtains draw. Before he even managed to look up, she was in front of him, hand on his forehead, wide green eyes staring up at him in alarm. His eyes started coming back into focus, and he nearly had a fit of his own.

In her rush to 'save' him, she'd dropped her towel, and was now kneeling stark naked before him. The sight might have been beautiful, but he was more concerned about her physical well being than his sex-drive at the moment.

"Sakura-san, get dressed. I am fine." She gave him a dubious look.

"You nearly fainted and fell out the window, and yet you're fine?"

"Yes. Please get dressed." She was still staring at him, a clearly suspicious look on her face. Still, she stood and turned, going to her dresser, pulling out the clothes. The Uchiha watched her as she dressed, the twinge of heartache returning when he noted her softly rounding belly. It was barely noticeable, but she had already started rounding out. He felt a pull at his heart, knowing that it was his child in her womb. _His_.

He wasn't supposed to ever have children. He wasn't supposed to even have a second chance at life like this, and yet here he was. Was it all about to turn to ash? Was she going to say she didn't want this? The insecurity that had plagued him since Christmas returned with a vengeance, and like a little devil it sniggered in the back of his mind, planting doubts and whispering about all his fears coming true.

"Itachi… about the baby…"

He thought his heart stopped when she said that; it was certainly still beating, but his breath caught, and he couldn't bring himself to breathe normally as he waited.

"Now… now don't say anything just yet, okay? I mean… I… I really didn't expect this… so… umm…" She suddenly whirled around looked at him, her eyes squeezed shut. What she said, however, was not what he expected.

"It's a girl!"

Itachi stared at her. She was trembling with the force of that statement. She was afraid? Oh, the stress wouldn't be good for the baby. Before he could say anything though, she continued.

"I know you probably wanted a boy, but it's a girl! Please don't be upset, okay? I'd understand if you were disappointed, but-!"

"Sakura-san."

She stopped, eyes still shut tightly as she stood stock-still in the middle of the bedroom floor. She was shaking like a leaf, and he didn't know what to do exactly to convince her of what he was feeling at the moment.

He felt a little like someone had just given him a miracle.

Kneeling down in front of her, like he might do for their little girl one day, Itachi took her hands in his, and waited. It took a little while, but Sakura eventually opened her eyes and looked down at him. What his face was telling her, he had no idea, but he _did_ know that there was something to be said.

"Sakura-san… don't they say that a man who gives his wife a daughter first truly loves her?"

To Sakura, as much as the words meant, his face said even more. She burst into tears and flung her arms around his neck, crying in relief.

* * *

**AN: Well. Here's the new chapter. If anyone's going to complain about it being a girl (like, "OMG, ANOTHER Uchiha baby girl story? Boooooriingggg!"), bite me. I didn't decide to write the song "All-American Girl", I'm just using the album for my challenge. Complain to Carrie Underwood.**

**Other than that, I actually like this chapter somewhat. My favorite part is with Ino and Naruto, of course, but I also had fun writing the mental-breakdown Itachi. Much love there. Anywho, enjoy and review!**


	11. Get Out of This Town

**Chapter ****11- ****Get**** Out ****of ****This ****Town**

"Rena-san, please take this chart to the B5 Lab Room, and let Moto-san know that it needs to see research _after_ he eats something."

"Yes ma'am!"

Sakura strode confidently down the hallway, her boots noiseless on the floor even if all the noise around made footsteps unnoticeable to begin with. Even now, when she was almost due, she didn't really show at all; her lab coat was sized a bit bigger just in case, but it actually hung off her quite freely even still.

A lot of the staff had already said it: you would hardly know she was pregnant unless you were really looking. The only reason everyone _did_ know was because some wall with ears caught wind of it.

The whispers were going around.

Who was the father? When did it happen? What did he look like? Where did she meet him? Was he a ninja? The questions were endless, and all she could do was sidestep them all with work, and then rush home. The baby in question moved inside of her gently. It settled to one side, making her stomach feel off-balance, but the little girl she was anticipating seemed content not to move any more than that.

Her baby seemed to be a gentle, quiet soul. Like her father, really.

The little smile that quirked her lips was unnoticed by any other as she slipped into her office and leaned against the door. It took her a few minutes to stop fantasizing and get back to work, but when she did the smile still remained.

* * *

Itachi felt it before she even told him. Sleeping with his hand on her stomach, as he'd become accustomed to, he'd _felt_ the contraction beneath his fingers.

He was in disguise and out the window with her before she could even think. The contractions came on hard and fast, and when her water broke, they were in mid-air. She grunted as she fought the pains. It was just a little further to the hospital! She tried to tell her baby that as she held her swollen belly.

She felt sick. When they arrived at the hospital, the flurry of motion that stirred up around her so quickly made her feel confined. She needed to breathe, but she couldn't.

There was a point in time where Shizune pushed through the crowd, and started helping Itachi past the onset of nurses, and after that, Sakura remembered hearing Tsunade roar a command that had them back off all together. When, how, the specifics of anything… the medic was never actually sure, until she looked back on all of it and thought very carefully.

There was a breather, so very brief that she was almost high for a moment before she came back down to earth. Because she heard a cry.

When she looked, Itachi's clever disguise was fading away rapidly as Tsunade handed him the baby. A baby with brown-black hair, just like her daddy. Her cries weren't really that loud; they were very quiet, actually. Her hands were drawn in, instead of flailing around, and Sakura knew instantly that she'd been right; this little girl was just like her father.

That father was, at the moment, completely dumbstruck.

Itachi stared down into that tiny face with such an expression that the mother didn't even have to wonder much on what he was thinking. There was love and wonder, and a twinge of fear and guilt. There were lots of things there to show he was worried about how things would turn out. But after a moment, he moved over to the bed as smoothly as he'd ever moved before, and perched there next to her, almost as if he were cuddling. Sakura could see the baby's face then, as she pushed back strands of dark hair. It was shaped much like her own, with high cheek bones and a small nose that made her look a little like a porcelain doll. Her little girl.

"Musubi."

The moment she said that, Itachi turned to look at her in a way much like he'd been watching their daughter. Sakura smiled, nuzzling Itachi's shoulder.

"Musubi. The tie that binds."

And as little as she'd said, there was so much meaning for it between the two of them that he very, very nearly cried.

* * *

The whispers were outside the hospital now. Much further out, and definitely all over. Instead of just wondering, curious gossip, they were now malicious at times. They wondered with suggestive glints in their eyes if she'd been raped, or if she sold her body to make ends meet. Maybe she'd slept with a client. The excitement about the baby still had the upper hand amongst her crowd, but outside of hospital walls, all they could think about was the unwed mother.

Because no one knew.

_I __**am**__ married, you picky old bastards._ Sakura stomped down the streets with a ferocity that normally sent her subordinates running. She'd been asked so many times already about "Is it hard, being a single mother?" that she was about ready to have a conniption. She would gladly do so, for a little peace and quiet, but it had a 98% likelihood of backfiring. _Picky, picky, __**picky**__ old bastards! You're all brown-nosing gossipmongers! Argh!_

She was standing ramrod-straight, to the point where her back was hurting, and her fists were gripped so tightly that she might've drawn blood if she hadn't been wearing gloves. Like this, she made her way back from the hospital, and up to her apartment.

And there in the living room was the reason she was doing this.

Itachi was curled up on the couch, Musubi carefully tucked into his arms. She was giggling sleepily, reaching up to touch her father's face, and when she did, he would gently kiss her little fingers. He heard when she came through the door and looked up, his expression withering somewhat when he saw her. She was absolutely sure it was because she looked like rage in human form, but she thanked him for not stating the obvious, like certain others would have.

"Are they giving you trouble?" She would've simply flopped down next to him, but instead she maneuvered very carefully. Upsetting Musubi was _not_ something she wanted to do.

"The newest theory is that I slept with a client who refused to take responsibility for a ninja child, and that he gave me money for an abortion that I refused to have, and I'm using it to live off of while I take maternity leave."

If Itachi got any more still, his heart would stop. She cooed at her daughter, and smiled when the baby's spring-green eyes lit up. But when she looked up into her husband's face, she saw absolutely nothing. She didn't like it. She made a point of that, standing and taking their daughter from his arms, turning away to their room. She felt him startle at the movement, and follow her.

She knew he would ask why.

"Sakura-san?"

"You looked like how I remembered you." She balanced her infant in one arm, and unbuttoned her shirt with the other, unbuckling the strap of her undershirt so that it slid down around her middle. Musubi was quite happy to be fed, and didn't hesitate a bit. "You looked just like you did when I met you four years ago."

Blank, hiding his emotions. She didn't like not knowing what he was thinking. Being completely blank meant that she couldn't count on things to be all right; she wouldn't be able to count on him to be rational. There was a loosening on his aura now; she could read it, and it was an apology by itself. It was enough for forgiveness.

"Sakura-san… I'm sorry."

He meant more than 'I'm sorry for getting angry.' He meant 'I'm sorry for not being able to do anything' too. She consciously regulated her chakra so Musubi wouldn't sense her frustration. Itachi was a good man, a good _husband_. He watched his little girl all day, and cared for her; even at night, he would be the one to answer when she called so that Sakura could sleep. He was bearing a heavy workload with the house, but then when Tsunade called upon him for a special mission, he would always answer and complete his designated task. He was certainly taking care of them like no one else would have.

Yet the gossips passed it around like truth- Earthquake Haruno was a single mother, so poor that she used money given to her for an abortion as living expenses, because she was too righteous to kill the unborn baby. Working at the hospital, keeping house and caring for a child, yet proud as ever, too proud to even ask for help. She didn't hire babysitters, so did the babe stay at home alone all day? The father is a mystery; she must have been raped. Oh, but she's too strong for that, so it must've been that she sold herself to make ends meet. Well, serves her right for disgracing herself that way- now she has another mouth to feed.

The stories, the backstabbing comments, were endless. They had no foundation, and yet were widely accepted by any who didn't know her personally.

It didn't hurt her. It really didn't.

_Itachi_ was another matter altogether.

* * *

"Oh, Haruno-san! It's been a while, hasn't it? How's your baby?"

"Sakura-sama! I haven't seen you since Musubi-chan's check up! Is everything all right?"

"Oh you know you can just call me if you need someone to watch the little doll!"

"If you're having trouble making ends meet, Sakura-san, I'd be glad to help out."

There was a permanent tick mark on Sakura's forehead. Now, little old ladies were one thing. They just had to be left to it. Co-workers were something else; they understood the stupidly large workload she had, so she'd let it go.

But ex-dates? Not even boyfriends, but _dates_?

Hell no.

Hell _no_, was she going to take money from some guy she let walk her home from a goukon, especially not when she could tell that he was going to try and use this as a way to get close to her. That was unforgivable. She looked him dead in the eye, and _said _it.

"If you want that balloon you call a head to stay attached to your neck, _keep your nose out of my damn business_, and never come _near_ my daughter or myself _ever_ again. Clear?" And before she even allowed an answer, she had stomped away down the hospital corridor.

She _had_ someone to help. She didn't _need_ a babysitter, because Musubi was being properly taken care of by _her father_. She didn't need monetary help; Tsunade gave her a raise, and allowed Itachi to take quickie missions here and again that were worth three times her normal paycheck. She didn't need it.

Any of it.

Any…

… of _them_.

* * *

Ino was supposed to be watching Musubi; Itachi hadn't been gone for more than three hours. A quick little assassination of some rogues roaming the border. No big deal. There wasn't even blood enough on him to call attention.

However, he returned to a house sacked of its belongings.

Cabinets were hanging open, and most of the crockery was missing. The coffee pot, the mugs and glasses, the tableware, and all the food from the refrigerator. In the living room, all the electronics were missing, along with every single book they owned, and a number of his wife's files. The throw pillows were missing off the couch, as was the blanket he usually left there. He shot down the hall towards their room, and barely took the time to notice that all the pictures were missing from the walls. He could tell in one glance that everything was missing from the linen closet down the hall.

The door to their room, always closed, was cracked open.

Inside, Sakura was cheerfully making her entire wardrobe disappear into a storage scroll. Musubi was playing on the floor, raising her head every now and then to watch her mother march from one end of the room to the other with great vigor, a man-size load in her arms disappearing each time into the apparently large-capacity document.

"Sakura…-san?"

She paused, looked up, and suddenly this bewilderingly large smile bloomed across her face. "Welcome home! Perfect timing. Is there anything you want to do before we leave?"

"_Leave_?" She nodded, her load again poof-ing out of existence. She practically _skipped_ up to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck; before he even had the opportunity to throw her off track, she kissed him. Affectionately, yet excitably. He didn't understand.

No, he really _didn't understand_.

"Sakura-san, what do you mean by _leave_?"

"Just exactly what I said, Itachi." She smiled, looking for the first time in a long time… happy. Or rather, _confident_.

"Let's blow this joint."

* * *

**AN: It's so sad. Carnival Ride is almost over! Only two chapters to go! *cries* The next chapter will be very short, but I have no idea how short or long the last one will be. Composition is really up in the air for it. But it's definite: Carnival Ride will be over soon. I really hope everyone has enjoyed the story; I'm worked really hard on it! Interesting for a challenge, right? I have another one I'm going to work on, as soon as I finish up some of my other stories. Anyway, please review~!**

**_Next Time_: **_Crazy Dreams_**  
**


	12. Crazy Dreams

**12~ ****Crazy ****Dreams**

She was in civilian clothes. A dark green spaghetti-strap shirt with her clan's crest, and some black cargo pants. Her light running boots had been exchanged for steel-toed work boots. There was no medic apron on her waist, though he could smell a little of the medicines and salves from her pockets. With storage scroll in-hand, and Musubi tied securely to her back, Sakura dragged Itachi out the door and didn't look back.

His transformation wasn't up in time. In fact, he was so distracted by his wife's uncharacteristic behavior that he forgot it altogether.

The medic dragged him by the hand down the street, half-skipping and _grinning_ like someone had just sent her Madara's head on a silver pike. Only a block away, she stopped in front of a florist and yelled at the top of her lungs. "Ino-pig~! Your DARLING SAKURA AND HER _HUSBAND_ REQUEST YOUR PRESENCE AT THE FRONT OF THE SHOP~!"

He choked. By this time, passers-by were staring—gaping, even—and he realized his error. Too late to do anything, however; the blonde was at the front door of her shop at the same instant Sakura finished her sentence, blue eyes so wide he vaguely thought to warn her about them falling out of their designated sockets.

"Forehead you _idiot_! What're you doing parading him around like this?"

"I came to tell you 'bye." The grin was something you could hear even without looking. "So, _anyway_, as a last service, can you have some yellow roses and some of those beautiful white orchids sent to Naruto? I know the orchids don't mean this exactly, but I'm not exactly going to stop by the Hokage's office with him en-tow. Naruto would go bonkers, y'know? So here's the message; are you ready?"

"Wait a sec, Sakura-!"

"_To Naruto: Sorry bud, but I'm off. You're the last of the original Team 7._" Hearing her voice suddenly somber, Ino simply stared at her best friend, watching as she gave the message plainly and clearly. She didn't want to believe it. But she was hearing it.

"_I'm off now. I don't know where we'll go, or what we'll do when we get there. Itachi and I can't stay in Konoha; though I should've known it from the start. It's not fair to anyone, but that's the way it goes._

"_I've got some crazy dreams, just like you. I'll become a doctor in some small town where the most they'll ever need is a midwife and a medicine-maker. My husband will do some ordinary job extraordinarily well, and people will possibly wonder why, and yet never ask. My beautiful daughter will be the talk of the town, and maybe, just maybe, she'll grow up a little too much like her parents. She'll be a dreamer, just like you, because I want to raise her to find her own way, whether it's as a ninja or not._

"_Maybe one day in the future, a girl with black hair and green eyes will show up, and she'll storm Konoha with a force that will remind everyone of Earthquake Haruno. At that time, I ask you to take care of her, okay?_

"_Don't worry too much. If you ever need me, just look and I'll pop up out of nowhere. I'll beat all the bad guys, and keep this place safe. Even if I leave, the Village Hiding in the Leaves will always be my home._

"_From Sakura."_

Green eyes stared back at her; just as bright and brilliant as the leaves their village was so well known for. There was a sad light, a strong light, a loving light, all shining there and saying that no matter how determined she was to leave, in her heart this would always be her homeland.

Her home was here, where Ichiraku Ramen demanded most of her spare time, and where Naruto would down seven bowls of pork ramen at a time.

Her home was here, where she'd graduated academy and learned not only the skills for everyday life, but also the skills to live when her life was on the line.

Her home was here, where her team had come together, and where it had also fallen apart. Where Sasuke and Kakashi were buried, and Naruto lived.

Her home was here. But her heart belonged to the man behind her. Wherever he was, she would be there and her heart would be whole. Itachi was staring at her practically agape, eyes filled with an overwhelmed wonder, and Ino could understand. He didn't see it coming. He probably didn't expect anything from Sakura.

He probably didn't even realize how much he meant to her.

And before the blonde could even say anything, Sakura had spun around, and was leading Itachi by the hand to the North Gate.

By now, the alarm had spread throughout the village: Uchiha Itachi was alive, and within the city walls. ANBU were showing up on rooftops, and everyone with a half-pint of courage and some skill was turning out to follow them as they sprinted down Main Street. Sakura laughed. Instead of crying, Musubi giggled too. Itachi was still too confused to do anything other than watch as joy spread across his love's face, her eyes sparkling and laughter filling his ears as though her burdens had never been so light as they apparently were right now. When they reached the gate it was already closed, but she didn't even bother. Without even slowing down, she sped up the wall and onto the roof above it, pausing there and turning to the crowd gathering on the ground behind them. Now didn't look to be the time for admiring familiar faces… but that was exactly what she was doing.

"I love him."

The moment she said that, the noise died to shocked silence. Itachi himself felt his heart almost stop, and he turned his glance from the crowd back to the face of his wife.

It was… the first time she'd ever said it.

"I love Uchiha Itachi. And to all you brown-nosing gossipers, I was never a single mother. Itachi was with me the whole time. He's been living in this village, in my apartment for almost a year now." The cries of distress were low and nearly inaudible, people attempting to suppress their anxiety in the face of a potential predator. Sakura smiled down at them, and she looked for all the world like a benevolent angel, her eyes softening on their shocked and outraged faces. "I'm leaving, and taking my husband and daughter with me. We will always be Konohagakure's allies, though I will no longer be bound by the village's walls. I wish well each and every familiar face here. And believe me, I know you all. I even have your medical records memorized."

She winked mischievously. "Kotetsu-san, Izumo-san, you'd better see about getting brides soon; you won't be young forever. Shikamaru, don't for a minute doubt how much Ino loves you; she turns so green with jealously when Temari-san is around that you'd mistake her for one of her prized flowers. Hinata-chan… I'm glad you and Naruto finally got together. Sorry I had to drug your drink that time to make it happen though." She took a breath, turned, and placed a gentle kiss on Itachi's lips, stunning him, and turning his cheeks a brilliant shade of crimson.

His first experience with public display of affection.

The lovely, lively bride he'd chosen grabbed his hand, and said her last goodbye before they disappeared into the forest beyond.

_Goodbye, home of my childhood. I'll always be watching over you._

_

* * *

_**AN: ONE MORE AND IT'S DONE. I'll tell you some amazing trivia in the next chapter's author's note, so don't forget to read it!**_  
_


	13. Wheel of the World

**Chapter ****13-**** Wheel ****of ****the ****World**

The city was teeming with life. Buildings that were once patchwork nightmares now stood clean, straight and tall—the sign of a prospering, stable village. Merchants harked their wares on the main street, and the flow in and out of the hospital was thin; children played in the park by themselves, without parental supervision. Because it was alright that way.

This was Konohagakure, the Village Hiding in the Leaves.

The Hokage Mountain now had six faces carved upon its weathered surface, and it was upon the sixth that a lone figure sat and stared out over the city. His orange and black cloak rustled in the wind that moved through the unruly hair carved out of stone around him, and the sun washed down on him from the cloudless sky. Like that sky, his blue eyes watched the city that had blossomed beneath him.

"Hokage-sama." He grimaced.

"Please don't call me by title, Ino-chan. It's disturbing."

"Whatever you say, Naruto-sama." He face-faulted and growled, turning around to look at the blonde mind-walker behind him. Her face was dead serious, but he knew that impish light in her eyes. Soon enough, she broke and giggled beneath his glare, moving to sit beside him on the warm crag. "Sorry. I just have to sometimes, Naruto."

His eyes turned back to the village, as did hers. The silence around them was only disturbed by the sounds of life floating up from the streets beneath, and it was welcome.

"Tsunade-sama was looking for you. She said your paperwork was filed all screwy again."

"It's fine. I can find it, so who cares? At least it's all done." She sniggered.

"Yes. Who would've thought that the number one prankster in our year would have such a clean desk fetish?"

The stilted conversation ended there for a moment. Essentially, that'd been what she needed to tell him. Now that he knew there was no need for her to stay, and yet stay she did. Because there was something… on her mind.

"Four years is a long time, isn't it." He surprised her by saying it first, but she wasn't shocked that it was on his mind, too.

"Too long. Think we should pass around some bad rumors and see if we can flush her out?" She was only half-joking, but he smiled wryly at the thought.

"No. Wherever Sakura-chan is… I'm sure she's happy."

Four years. It was a long time. Their village was so different from when she'd left; he wondered what she would remember. Ichiraku was in the same place, but the little ramen stand had expanded into a full-blown restaurant now. The old yakiniku place had burned down, and in its place was a Mongolian barbecue place; the yakiniku place actually moved further down the main street. Her old apartment was still there; but of all things, Ino and Shikamaru—now about to come upon their third wedding anniversary—were living there, only a block from Ino's shop and a three-minute trip to the training grounds where Shika's genin team currently met daily.

The world was still turning. Like they'd never left. Or like they'd never been there.

He would never forget, though.

Like a carnival ride, they'd suffered the ups and downs together. They'd seen lives sacrificed and saved, birth and death, beginnings and endings all together. They'd suffered the same betrayals, and been rewarded with many of the same hard-won friendships. Her mark was in this city, in places people forgot to look—places like the hospital, with its specialized poison research lab, and the nurses who ran it so skillfully. It was evident in the craters still found in some of the old training grounds. It was evident in the empty Uchiha complex, where she had scrubbed away every fleck of blood, cleaning the place for years until Sasuke had died. And her name was still written in this place; from the books in the Academy to Kakashi's headstone, her presence remained in every path one could walk.

The wheel of the world turned and turned, never stopping and yet… at times, he could almost feel her walking beside him again.

* * *

"Chika! Musubi! Don't wander too close to the river!" The two youngsters glanced up from where they were, and promptly came closer to the house, tumbling through the golden wheat with laughter bubbling from their throats.

A beautiful woman in a brightly colored kimono smiled, and turned back to her pestle and mortar, carefully grinding the herbs inside into a fine powder. Her bright pink hair was piled elegantly atop her head, though a few strands escaped to frame her face. The young man before her was nearly awed in her presence, but she paid him little mind as she packaged the medicine, and slipped it in the bag with several other doses of the same strong stuff.

"Have her take one every morning before breakfast and one every night after dinner for the next week. No alcohol, no tobacco products, and only weak tea and water. If she shows any adverse effects such as difficulty breathing or rashes, or other ill symptoms, please come and consult me immediately."

"Ye-yes ma'am!" She nodded firmly, and he almost _skittered_ off the porch, back towards the dirt road that led into the small town only 20 minutes' walk away. She watched him go with a bit of satisfaction, a smile on her face, before turning to gather her tools.

Her steps off the porch were light, and so quiet they were lost in the rustle of the wind in the wheat. She stood above the brook that bordered the front of their property in a matter of moments, and stooped carefully down to its clear, dark waters. It wasn't hard to clean her tools there, but she did risk dirtying the hem of her kimono with her actions. That was fine, though. She was a medicine maker, not a princess.

She looked up at the sky, and just as she did, sturdy hands wrapped around her waist, a pair of soft, gentle lips kissing her behind her ear. Her eyes gentled, but continued staring up.

Up, into the true blue sky that reminded her of a certain pair of eyes.

"Four years… really _is_ a long time."

* * *

**AN: AND THAT'S A WRAP! And what was the amazing trivia I promised you?**

**Well, I'm 40 minutes late, but I had originally intended on posting this yesterday... Which was the EXACT one-year anniversary of Carnival Ride's first post! *throws confetti***

**It's kinda sad to see this story go, but at the same time, I'm so happy to have finished something! For anyone who's a DeiSaku fan, please note: my next focus will be my long-neglected DeiSaku fic, "Clay Penance"! I hope to see all you wonderful people reviewing that story, too; I got rave reviews when I was posting, and I'm going back and editing the first several chapters, so they can be read more realistically and with more pleasure than before. I hope all of you will continue to read my stories and review!**

**Next UP: **_Clay Penance_**  
**


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